#celeste dumais | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lumosinlove · 1 year ago

Text

Vaincre

May part five

cw: mentions of injury & recovery (nothing graphic)

Thanks for waiting y'all! It means so much that you stick with me. I'm gonna do smaller sections so I can post more frequently. Expect the next part up in a couple of days. All the love!! <3

The hospital lights were bright.

Alex didn’t like to remember that about them, but he looked down at his own pale thighs in his shorts and watched how the lights traced out every single blue vein. It made him feel more vulnerable than he cared for at that moment. He didn’t want to think about Finn laid out under a machine, waiting to hear how long it might take him to heal. That was the thing with heads. Bones had an end date: Six weeks, maybe four. Heads, however, came with mights. Might be a few months. Might be more.

Their dad was trying to get their mom to sit down, to rest. She looked just as pale in this awful light. Tear tracks on her cheeks, hand on her chest as if she could press her heart into calmness. They all—all three of them, Finn, Alex, their dad—had always hated it when she cried.

Kasey, asleep beside him in the chair now, had handed him this cup of coffee at some point. His was holding himself stiffly in sleep. Alex could tell he was in some sort of pain. Maybe from the game.

Alex wasn’t sure how long he had been holding the coffee, only that his fingers were numb from leeching the burning heat out of the flimsy cardboard. He reached out and settled careful fingers over Kasey’s old injury, wishing he could leech the pain away, too. Natalie was on the phone down the hall—maybe with Celeste Dumais. Or Lily Potter.

Logan and Leo. He didn’t see them in the waiting room.

Alex set the coffee down beneath his chair and turned to stroke a hand through Kasey’s hair. Brown eyes opened to him, tired but trying not to be.

“Did I fall asleep?” Kasey asked.

“Just for a minute.” Alex pressed a kiss to his temple. “Be right back.”

“Want me to come?” Kasey cleared his throat. He made the chair looks so small, and Alex caught the twinge of pain in his face when he moved his legs.

“No, I’m just—no, it’s okay.” He looked back towards Natalie. “You two should get home. I hope I won’t be too much longer.”

“Alex.” Kasey rubbed at his eyes then sat forward. “If you think we’re going anywhere right now, you’re an absolute insane person.”

“Seconded.”

They both looked up at Natalie, walking towards them and sliding her phone into her back pocket.

“Celeste?” Kasey asked.

“It was Sirius actually,” Natalie said. “Checking in. This is not the time, nor the place, but that man sounds extremely sexy on the phone.”

Alex cracked the barest of a smile. He stood, suddenly feeling like it would burn him through and through if he stayed still for one more second. “Does he now?”

Natalie just kissed his cheek. “Not nearly as good as you. Only, I prefer hearing your voice face to face.”

“IRL?” Alex asked. He pushed his hands in his pockets and tried to figure out how to stop his throat from closing up when he caught another glimpse of his mom’s face.

“No one says IRL,” Natalie said softly, but her eyes were flicking all over his face. “Alex—”

“I’m gonna go check on him,” Alex said, and turned away fast before she could see anything else he didn’t want her to.

The hospital lights remained just as bright down the hallway and—oh. There they were. Leo was sitting on a chair outside of Finn’s room. Logan was leaning against the opposite wall, glaring at the shut door like he could open it with his gaze alone.

“Hey,” Leo stood when he caught sight of him. He looked tired, shoulders slumped down. “Sorry, we just…” Leo sent a glance at Logan, who hadn’t moved. Hadn’t so much as blinked. “We’re feeling like the waiting room’s a little too far away right now, so…”

“Isn’t that cute,” Alex said and that got him a darting glare from Logan. Alex smiled tightly at Leo, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You guys okay? Need anything?”

“To get inside,” Logan grumbled pointedly, just as the door opened and the doctor slipped through. Logan stood straight, every muscle in him straining forward as the doctor shut the door again. She turned and her eyes hesitated on Alex.

“You’re twins?” she asked.

“Brothers,” Alex said faintly.

“Ah. Well, you can go in and see him now.” She smiled sympathetically and began walking down the hallway towards the waiting room. “He’s a talker, that one, isn’t he?”

Alex felt something that he thought was relief flood through him. He heard Leo let out a breath.

“Yeah,” Leo said. “Yeah, he is.”

Logan pushed off of the wall, and Alex barely got a hand on his chest to stop him before his hand was on the doorknob.

“Alex,” Logan said, hovering between demanding and questioning.

“Listen,” Alex said. “I know you…I know it’s…” Alex shut his eyes. They were so dry from the air that it hurt. “Can I just have a second with him? Please.”

Logan looked like he was going to protest. The look in his eyes was almost anger, or maybe frustration, but Leo stepped forward.

“Of course,” he said, and took Logan’s hand, pulling him a step back. “Of course you can. We’ll wait.”

Alex looked at him. Blue eyes. Leo hadn’t been there for so much of it, of Finn’s hurt and Logan’s ache, but he seemed to understand somehow. Alex felt a sort of kinship to him in that way. Somehow, despite the odds, both of them had become the missing halves to, not one, but two people who had already made a whole.

“Thank you,” Alex said softly, then looked at Logan. “Tremz, thanks. Really.”

Logan still didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded. He covered Leo’s hand entirely with both of his own.

No more bright lights. Not in this room. There was a soft, unobtrusive light for the doctors to see by, but that was all.

“Doesn’t it remind you of the kind that line the aisles on airplanes?” Finn’s voice said from the bed. “You know? The emergency ones.”

Alex nodded. “Mhm.”

“It’s you, Al, right?”

“Mhm,” Alex said.

“Hm,” Finn said. “Quite the game, Hazard.”

“Hazard,” Jack began to say in the locker room. He looked wrecked after the game.

Alex shook his head. “Don’t talk to me.”

Jack walked forward, at least he tried to. Will stopped him with a hand on his chest. It wasn’t aggressive. That wasn’t Will’s way. Will gave a small shake of his head, but Jack kept talking.

“It was an accident. I—okay, but I didn’t mean to hit him that hard. I thought he’d brace himself, he saw me coming—”

“I said don’t talk to me.” Alex said, then he shouldered past Logan and stepped up until all that separated him and Jack was Will’s palm. “For as long as you’re here, and I don’t think that will be for much longer, don’t talk to me.”

Jack’s eyes were wide, and for all his skill, he looked about twelve years old in that moment. With the sneer that crossed his face, a short disbelieving smile.

“We…” Jack shook his head. “But we won the game.”

It took everything in Alex to not hurt him, and most of Logan’s strength, too, when he got his arms around Alex’s, pinning them down before he could raise his fist any higher. Jack still flinched. At least Jack still flinched.

“We shouldn’t,” Logan breathed shakily, mouth close to Alex’s ear. “Alex. Alex, we shouldn’t.”

Alex cursed and shook Logan and Will off.

“We won the game,” Alex parroted under his breath, and then slammed a hand against his stall. “Get the fuck out of my sight, Archer.”

Finn didn’t look horrible, which was good. He looked more relaxed than Alex had anticipated. Aside from the sling, he would have looked almost normal. He had one knee bent, foot planted on the hospital bed. He had the hood of his sweatshirt up—Rangers blue—and after a moment of thinking of Logan, Alex realized it was his own.

Finn caught him looking and plucked at it with his good hand. “Think it’s bad luck? Mom brought it to me.”

Alex, just looked at him. It was the hood up maybe, mussing his hair. Or the socked feet. Or the tiredness all over his face. Something was making Finn look younger than he really was, something was making Alex feel like he was looking at his kid brother again, leaving Finn at home for the NHL. Getting this call.

Finn’s mouth pulled to the side and he smoothed the logo. “I don’t think it is. I like it.”

Those short sentences he’d been saying since he was eight. So sure of himself. The pizza on Prince street is better. That girl smiled at me. She likes me. So damn sure of everything. Logan had been the first to shake him out of the habit. Maybe Alex was a little angry with him about that, or at least he had been at one time.

Alex nodded. He walked forward to stand at the edge of Finn’s bed. There was a chair there but he didn’t sit. He reached out and tugged the hood more firmly over Finn’s hair, making him laugh.

“I’m good, Al,” Finn said. “Really.”

Alex didn’t reply. He just sat on the edge of the bed and waited half a second for Finn to get the message before laying down. He hugging his little brother as hard as he dared. He felt Finn push into his hold, the same way he had at five when having a nightmare, at fourteen when Alex was leaving, at nineteen when everything seemed wrong, and everything seemed right, but Alex just couldn’t figure out what.

“Al,” Finn said. It was an awkward position, but he managed to get his good arm around Alex’s back. “Al, I’m fine, I promise. Even the doctor said—”

“Just let me,” Alex whispered hoarsely. “Just be quiet and let me fucking worry about you.”

Finn melted a little more against him. “Okay. All right.”

Alex couldn’t help the hitching sob that he let out against Finn’s shoulder, and he felt Finn’s fingers curl in his hair.

“It’s okay,” Finn whispered. “It’s okay…”

“You can’t do that to me,” Alex managed, fisting the sweatshirt against Finn’s back. “You can’t do that to me, you can’t…”

“I know, I know,” Finn said softly. “Al, I’m sorry. I love you, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” Alex sniffed and pressed a hard kiss to Finn’s temple. “You’re just like—you just didn’t move. And you’re my…”

“Al…” Finn turned on his a little more onto his good side so that his hand beneath Alex could pat at his back. Alex was probably crushing it but he didn’t care just then. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“You’re my baby brother and I love you so much,” Alex said. “And I can’t protect you from anything.”

And maybe that was it. Harvard, Logan, hockey. If only they had talked about it.

“Stop,” Finn said when Alex turned his face into his sweatshirt. “Stop, yes you can. You always do.”

Alex made a sound that made them both laugh wetly.

“Were there words in there?” Finn asked.

“Not really.” The door opened, a quiet snick of a sound, and Alex whispered to Finn, “Thought Tremz was gonna kill me for keeping him—”

“Oh, my boys,” their mother’s voice said softly. Not Logan and Leo then. “Rams, honey, shut out that hallway light.”

The door closed again and Alex looked up in time to see his mom stroke a hand down Finn’s cheek.

“How are you, baby?”

Finn, his good hand trapped under Alex, just leaned into her palm. “I’m okay, mom. I promise.”

Haley just narrowed her eyes skeptically. “You’d say you were okay if there was an astroid hurdling towards you.” She turned to Alex, petting a hand through his hair. “Are you okay? My slightly older baby.”

Alex just kept his face half-hidden in Finn’s sweatshirt, glad for the dim light.

“We’ll be okay soon,” Finn said for him. “How’s that?”

“I guess good enough,” Ramsey said, and walked forward and put a hand on Finn’s knee. “Your boys are outside. Logan looks like he’s about to turn into the Hulk.”

“Aw shucks,” Finn smiled.

“Probably because he knows I’m in his spot,” Alex managed, and his mother gave him a knowing look at the sound of recently shed tears in his voice. Alex pushed himself up and looked down at Finn.

“My hand's asleep from your big butt,” Finn said.

Alex rolled his eyes, wiped at his cheeks, and stood.

“The doc just doesn’t want too many people in here,” Haley said. “We promised we’d take turns. Now, I’m gonna get you some water—or maybe something to eat?” She looked at Alex. “Honey, Nat and Kasey are in the waiting room, they said—”

“I… What? I told them they could go home,” Alex said.

Finn snorted, then groaned a little, closing his eyes. “As if they’d go anywhere without you.”

“Especially tonight,” Haley said, petting a hand through Finn’s hair again. “You’re burning up, baby.”

Alex looked towards the door, frowning. “Still. I said it was all right.”

“It’s always like this,” Finn said to his mom, then opened his eyes and looked at Alex. “Maybe they could see that it wasn’t all right.”

“It is,” Alex said. “They’re probably tired.”

“They know you need them right now.”

Haley looked between them for a moment. Alex met her eyes. He watched them drop to his chest and looked down to see that he was fiddling with Kasey’s diamond.

“You’re okay,” Alex said. He wiped at his face. “We’re fine. I’m fine.”

“Leo sees right through me all the time,” Finn said. “Think of it like that.”

“Well.” Haley sighed. “Why don’t I send him right in here, then,” She rose from the bed and put her arms around Alex. “So he can see through your okays just like you’re seeing through your brother’s.”

Logan was in the past, Leo could see it all over his face. There was no part of him actually in the hallway right then. He was back in the limbo that he and Finn went to sometimes. The spaces in between the hurt and the healing. The memories and the moments. All Leo could do was lean against the wall next to him and watch his face as they both listened to the faint murmurs of the O’Hara’s voices.

“He’s doing fine, sweetheart,” Leo said. “He’s just got his family in there, that’s all.”

“We’re his family.”

“Lo.”

“I know. Sorry.” Logan turned, pushing off the wall. He settled his hands under Leo’s sweatshirt on his hips. He tilted his head up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I’m just…”

Leo took Logan’s face in his hands, admiring the way his cheeks filled his palms. “Me too.”

“I’m glad we can be like this,” Logan whispered. “Here. Now. Under these stupid bright lights.”

Leo pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t hold you like this right now.” He looked over Logan’s head at the closed door. “I want to hold him right now.”

Logan closed his eyes and Leo couldn’t help but kiss his forehead again. His eyelids, then his nose. He pictured an eighteen year old Logan in a hospital like this one, waiting in the hallway. You’re his teammate? Family only for now, honey.

“Lo?”

Logan looked up at him.

“What was it like? The first time.”

Logan sighed and Leo moved his palms down to settle around his waist. “It’s…”

Logan blinked, and Leo watched him go to the past again. Far away. He tensed in his hold. Leo hated it, he hated everything about that look on Logan’s face, but he wanted to know. He needed to know. It had been so long since he felt behind the two of them. A strange feeling, left behind in the present while they went back to the past.

“Lo,” Leo whispered. “Please. I need to know—”

The door clicked open and Haley appeared first, turned back towards the bed and blowing a kiss with her hand. “We’ll see you tomorrow, baby, okay? Please rest.”

Leo had thought Finn would be asleep. Or groggy. Too exhausted to speak in something above a whisper. The sheer weight of worry on his back broke when he heard Finn’s laugh from inside the room. He felt Logan sway against him.

“Okay, Mom,” Finn’s voice came. “I love you guys.”

Haley turned and, even though she looked like she had been crying, she took in Leo and Logan, wrapped up together, and smiled. “He’s dying to see you two.”

“Usually its you who finds me down here.”

Remus stopped hard on his skates near the center of the synthetic ice, sweat shining in the dim basement lights. Sirius had thought he was coming to bed. He had sat upstairs until he realized that there were no more sounds coming from the kitchen. Regulus was in his room. All that was left was the rink downstairs.

Sirius looked down, letting Remus take his time. Remus’ phone was on the edge of the boards. There was a video lighting up the screen. A press conference. Jack Archer. Sirius didn’t need to hit play. He’d seen it, but he hadn’t even needed to do that. They’d all heard him begging Leo in the hallway. It was an accident. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I thought he’d brace himself. It’s hockey—

“Whatever it was,” Remus said. “There was purpose behind it. That’s what I think.”

Sirius looked up. Remus had silently made his way over. He was wearing one of Sirius’ sweatshirts, thumb poking through a hole in one of the sleeves. He spun his stick before letting it drop to the ground with a clatter.

“Sounds like Leo does, too,” Remus said. “At least there are no secrets that need keeping this time. Not like it was with…”

Fenrir.

“Re,” Sirius said softly.

“It’s not about me,” Remus said. He pushed himself over the boards, one leg, then the other, but before he could touch the ground Sirius stepped between his dangling skates. He settled his hands on Remus’ hips to keep him in place.

Remus had his eyes on Sirius’ sweatshirt. It was from their Cup day. Rainbow taped sticks crossed over the Cup’s silhouette. “We should go to bed, we have a flight tomorrow. We have a game.”

“Not until you look at me,” Sirius said.

Remus widened his eyes, honey-colored in this light, and looked right at Sirius. “I am looking at you.”

“Re,” Sirius said.

Slowly, Remus’ face relaxed and he let his forehead drop forward onto Sirius’ shoulder.

“We lost.”

“We’re tied.” Sirius kissed Remus’ neck, then knelt in front of him. He set one skate on his thigh and began to undo the laces. “And you need to rest. We need you out there.”

Remus watched his hands work. He got through one skate and pulled it off gently, taking a moment to rub the arch of Remus’ foot, to dig his thumb around his ankle bones.

“Remember you doing this with my injury,” Sirius said. He drew off the tight compression sock and rubbed over the red lines it left behind in Remus’ skin. “I used to dream about it. About your hands.”

Remus’ smile was small. “Used to?”

Sirius reached forward and took one of Remus’ palms to kiss. “Don’t have to dream about it anymore, do I?”

He took to the other skate. Loosening the laces, easing it off.

“Did you hear anything more with Finn?” Remus asked. “Or Leo?”

“He’s doing okay, I talked to Natalie,” Sirius said. “And Leo…” I didn’t expect you to be happy. Sirius had only known one true love in his life, but he knew a troubled love when he saw one, easily. Jack was that. He and James had shared a look in the locker room. Should I go say we can hear them? Sirius had silently asked. James had shaken his head, meaning, I think that might make it worse.

“Sometimes, I wish it was just about the game,” Remus said softly when he was barefoot. “But it feels like so much more than that.”

Sirius rose and let Remus wrap his arms around his neck so he could ease him down from the boards. Remus locked their fingers together as they walked up the stairs.

“Would the game be the game if there wasn’t more to it than a ball and a stick?” Sirius shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ve been thinking about Kasey,” Remus said.

Sirius nodded. “Keep wondering when he’s going to tell the team.”

“Do you think about it?” Remus asked hesitantly. “What you would do…after?”

Sirius had never liked that word. After. He used to question its existence. His father had not settled into a good after. Retirement was never a word he used. There was always work to be done, always someone else who had wronged him, always another step to take.

Then again, his father had never gotten exactly what he wanted. Not in his career. Maybe in his wife, but Sirius would never know for sure. Not in his sons. Not in his legacy.

“I used to not be able to think about it,” Sirius said. They entered the kitchen and he went to the refrigerator to fill up a cup of water from the filter. “I thought my life would end.”

He slid the glass over to Remus and leaned against the counter beside him.

“Watching Finn go down, I thought about it,” Sirius said. “I mean, everyone thinks about it. It can be over in a second. All of it.” Sirius rubbed a thumb over Remus’ cheek. “I know I don’t have to tell you that.”

“It’s okay,” Remus said. He took a greedy drink, then smiled a little sheepishly, like he hadn’t realized how hard he had been skating.

“It used to terrify me.” Sirius smiled a little. ��I wanted to play hockey forever, which I can’t do. I liked boys, who I couldn’t have. James was always going to have a family, and I would never be entirely a part of it. And James sometimes felt like the only thing I had, in the beginning days. Re, he and Lils…they took me on so many dates.”

Remus laughed and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck. “I remember. We could have been friends earlier, you know. If someone had been a little more…”

Sirius smiled into his kiss. “I was such an ass to you in the beginning.”

“Oh, I remember that, too.” Remus put on what, according to Thomas, was a perfect imitation of his frown, and gave a slightly French lilt to his words. “Oh, you’re an intern? Well, I’ll go to Moody then, but thanks.”

Sirius groaned and dropped his head to Remus’ shoulder. “Don’t remind me.”

Remus just laughed again and pressed a quick burst of kisses to his cheek. He shuffled closer until his bare feet were on top of Sirius’ socked ones. “It’s okay. You’ve done a pretty good job making up for it.”

Sirius rubbed a hand up and down his back slowly and felt Remus settle more against him. They were both tired, eyes closing, swaying in the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about Jack. Don’t watch that interview anymore, mon loup,” Sirius whispered. “Finn’s going to be okay.”

“Hm,” Remus said, then stepped back and took Sirius’ hands, pulling him towards the stairs. “Well. We’ll just have to kick their asses tomorrow night. Game five, baby. We’re two-two.”

Sirius let Remus lead him up to bed. He let Remus sink into his side as they brushed their teeth, and then spoon up against his back once they were under the covers. If this was what after looked like, part of him couldn’t wait.

Finn was sitting up. He pushed the hood of his sweatshirt back when he saw them and smiled. His red hair was soft and falling over his forehead, still sweaty from the game. Leo wanted to cry.

“Boys,” Finn sighed and patted the small space beside him on the bed with his good arm. “Don’t look at me like that. Come here.”

Logan all but collapsed at Finn’s side and Finn’s arm wound around him. Logan took Finn’s chin gently between his thumb and forefinger to steady his face. It looked like he was soaking in as much of that sweet brown color as he could. He was looking for the hurt.

“Don’t lie to me,” Logan whispered as Leo shut the door.

Finn stuck his tongue out until the tip of it touched Logan’s nose, then smiled. Logan didn’t pull away, didn’t even flinch and Finn did it again. Finn looked up at Leo, who was still standing by the door. “Le.”

Leo worried the inside of his lip. “I’ll hurt your shoulder on that side.”

Finn tapped his foot on the end of the bed, then spread his knees. It was a tight fit, but Leo managed to fold himself at the end of the bed. He took Finn’s legs and draped them around his hips, rubbing his thighs.

“Very sexy for a hospital,” Finn said. “Sexy thigh rubbing."

“How are you feeling?” Leo asked. Logan pushed his face into Finn’s neck and Leo and Finn smiled at each other. Finn closed his eyes at the feeling of Logan against him. “You’re guard dog missed you.”

“Don’t lie,” Logan mumbled.

Finn drummed his fingers over Logan’s spine. “Has a single lie come out of my mouth, baby?”

“No,” Leo said. “But we know you. The doctor said you were pretty…”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “She said I was pretty? Damn, she was pretty, too.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but secretly his chest was squeezing with relief. He hadn’t expected this Finn. Joking. He didn’t know if it was normal or because he was putting all of himself into masking the pain he was in.

“Pretty okay,” Leo pinched at his knee. “Is what I was going to say.”

“I am,” Finn said. “I mean, I know I’m on pain killers right now.”

“Yeah, you just licked Logan.”

Finn smiled and looked down until Logan peered out for a kiss. “He likes it. Don’t you, Lolo?”

Logan touched Finn’s fingers where they were poking out of his sling. “Does it hurt though?”

Finn sighed. “Yeah, of course it does. But it will be worse later so I’m hoping to enjoy right now when I don’t feel like my skull is going to fall apart.”

“Don’t say that.” Logan put his fingers to Finn’s lips.

Finn just kissed them. “Haven’t been in a bed this small in a while, hm, Lo?”

Logan’s brow creased. “Non…”

Leo watched them kiss, and he could see it. Harvard. Middle of the night. A terrified Logan, trying not to touch Finn and wanting nothing more than to help him. Leo thought he knew about Harvard, but sometimes when he saw them like this, he wasn’t sure he’d ever know anything at all.

“What about my sunshine?” Finn’s voice drew him out of his mind. Brown eyes, dim light. “Did he miss me?”

Leo swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, he—” His voice broke and he rolled his eyes at himself when he felt a surprising tear escape.

“Aw, Le…” Finn’s brows knit together.

“Sorry, I’m just worried about you.”

Finn’s eyes were sympathetic, and he kept looking at him even as he kissed Logan’s forehead. “Shift change, Lo.”

Logan looked, Leo had to admit, a little reluctant, but he pushed himself up and leaned down for one more kiss.

“It’s okay, Lo, you can stay,” Leo said shakily.

“Non,” Logan said, and before Leo could move he pressed his hand to Leo’s thigh and kissed his cheek. “Just warming it up for you.”

It was warm. Finn tucked Leo right up against his chest. He smelled a little bit like the hospital, but if Leo pressed hard enough (and he did) there was Finn there, too. Logan took Leo’s place, settling on his stomach between Finn’s legs with his arms folded across Finn’s hips.

“Don’t cry, baby,” Finn whispered against Leo’s mouth. “Please don’t cry.”

“I love you,” Leo said thickly. “I’m sorry, I should be comforting you.”

“Shh,” Finn kissed him again, peppering them softly over his cheek. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“I’m gonna kill Jack,” Logan said.

“He didn’t do this to me, Lo,” Finn said softly. “It was a hit.”

“We don’t know that,” Logan said, chin against Finn’s chest. In any other situation, he would have looked adorable, feet half off the bed like that. But his green eyes were dark.

“Did you confront him?” Finn asked, eyes on Logan.

Logan rolled his eyes.

“Tremz,” Finn said warningly. “You could get in serious trouble—”

“I broke my helmet,” Logan said. “I didn’t break him.”

Leo felt Finn’s hand tighten around his shoulders. “Logan.”

Leo pressed harder against Finn, watching them.

“I’m right,” Logan pushed himself up, hands on Finn’s hips. Any other time, he would have raised his voice, but he kept it soft in the dark room. Leo still thought he felt Finn wince. “He did this. Finn, he did this to you—”

“I did this,” Leo whispered.

It felt like even the machines beeping around them paused. Leo couldn’t see Finn’s face well, but Logan’s eyes snapped right to his. Leo just turned his face into Finn’s chest and let himself break.

Leo cursed the position of goalie, for once in his life, as he fumbled through the endless straps and buckles of his cumbersome equipment. It didn’t help that his fingers were shaking. Alex, holding Finn’s head on the ice. I’m fine. I’m fine, Le. Deadening silence and collective gasps. Logan, skating hard to catch up and—

Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack—

Leo’s jersey got caught on part of his padding, and it was as good as someone trying to hold him back. Irrational, pure rage fired through his chest and he yanked the fabric hard over his head, ripped at the the velcro of his chest pad. Some part of his mind registered how quiet the Lions locker room was around him. Some part of his mind knew how hard he was breathing, that the motion of tearing off his jersey had slammed his knuckles into his stall on accident. A bruise, probably, would form. But he couldn’t feel anything. He pulled at the laces of his skates, watching his hands shake.

“Leo…”

Kasey’s voice. Leo could hardly hear that, either.

Finn on the ice. So still. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four, five—

His pads were splayed out in front of him, around him on the ground. Finn’s stall was empty, and beside it Leo looked for green eyes and Logan and found Kota instead, quiet, not sure what to do. A new shot of anger. Logan, traded. Who would ever do that? Logan had won them a Cup, he was theirs, he was a Lion, Logan was his, he should be here.

“Le, it’s gonna be okay,” Kasey said softly, helping Leo ease the rest of his equipment off with expert, steady hands. “Let me help, okay?”

Jack. Jack. Hey, Le, look, good for you that you never had to feel scared—

Finally, it was all off of him. He didn’t feel any lighter. He locked eyes with Kasey for a long moment. Kasey, against his words, looked as scared as Leo felt. Leo yanked on a pair of sweatpants, didn’t bother to change out of his sweat-soaked shirt, and ran.

He made it five paces before meeting Jack.

Wide-eyes. Sweaty hair, still half in his gear. Even with his skates on, Leo was taller. Leo looked for bruises, blood, something to show him that Logan had gotten to him first. Nothing.

“Leo,” Jack said.

That look on his face. Leo was back in eleventh grade and he’d said something wrong, he’d said something when they were somewhere too bright, too crowded, Leo, what the fuck, what are you doing—

Jack put his hands up. Surrender. As if he even had that right. “Leo.”

Leo hadn’t realized that he had frozen to the spot. Not until Jack started walking forward. Not until he said his name again. Leo, stop it. God, it can’t always be like that. Okay? Shaking his hands off. Stop.

“Leo—”

“No,” Leo said. “No.”

Jack blinked once, again, swallowed hard. “Le…”

“Get out of my way.”

“No—”

“Get out of my way.” He shoved Jack in the chest hard, and when it didn’t feel like enough to watch him stumble backwards, he did it again. Jack just stared at him, bracing himself against the wall. Leo snapped all over again. If those first words had hurt his throat, his next ones tore at him. They were laced with the throb of tears, unshed. He shoved Jack hard a third time and watched the way he winced. “What is—What the hell is wrong with you?”

“No, no,” Jack whispered. “Please, you don’t understand—”

Leo didn’t recognized the sound of pure frustration he made. He wanted to bring something down, Jack, the wall, this entire building.

“What is wrong with you?” he shouted again.

“It was an accident,” Jack said. “He had—” Jack closed his eyes. “I wasn’t—He just folded, he fucking folded, how was I supposed to know? This is hockey.”

“That wasn’t hockey. Finn has a concussion.” Leo wasn’t sure how he knew, but he knew. “This is his third. Did you know that? Did you stop to think about that?”

Jack put a hand over his eyes. “No. No, I—”

“Do you know what three concussions can do to a person? Did you think about that before you fucking snapped and shoved his head into the boards?”

“C’mon, I…” Jack sounded close to tears, too. “C’mon, Le, that’s not what happened, please—”

“If you’re angry at me,” Leo shouted, “takeit out on me.”

“I’m not angry at you,” Jack roared back.

Leo curled his hands into fists. “You think I don’t know that? I didn’t do anything.”

Jack didn’t react like Leo thought he would. Leo waited for him to explode back at him again. He almost wanted it. He wanted to get this over with. Finn needed him. He needed Finn. He needed Logan’s hand on his back, Finn letting them take him home. He needed to see Finn safe and okay and not still and pale out on the ice.

Instead, Jack sagged in front of him in the hallway. He looked up at Leo, cheeks and neck red. “Le.”

“Don’t waste my fucking time,” Leo said. “I’m done. I’m so fucking done with you.”

“I,” Jack began. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What did you mean?” Leo said. “For once in your life, why don’t you tell me what you actually meant. Because, honest to God, I don’t think I’ve ever known. Because I’m not here to clean up your messes anymore. I’m not here to make you feel better about yourself, or to tell you its okay. I broke that habit a long time ago.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Jack said again.

“What did you mean?”

“I don’t know. I…It’s hockey, you just snap sometimes, it’s adrenaline, it’s—it’s the game. I went too far, I know that, but he’s…he’s…”

“He’s what?” Leo shouted. “What, what, what, speak or get out of my way.”

“He’s happy.”

Leo pressed his hand over his eyes. “God, I’m going to kill you. I’m going to fucking kill you, I don’t even know—how to respond to that. Get out of my way.”

Leo pushed through him, but Jack grabbed his hand.

“I didn’t expect you to be happy,” he said, and Leo froze all over again.

He tried, for a moment, to remember if he’d been happy when Jack was in his life. Or, if he’d only thought he was. His childhood bedroom, dark, Jack flinching at every sound from the larger house. Jack’s skin touching his, and Leo thinking that he would do anything, panicking over how much he could do to keep them this way for as long as possible. To make Jack give him a smile when it was all over.

Finn, hurting now but always soft and grinning on the pillows. C’mere. Come here, baby. Logan, leaning over him, thumb against his lip. Let’s stay up all night. Leo, smiling, why? Logan, leaning down for a kiss. I wanna keep looking at you.

“But you are,” Jack whispered. “You’rehappy, and it…Fuck. It falls off of you three like…like something you can see.”

Slowly, Leo turned. He pulled his hand out of Jack’s and close to his chest, cradling it like it was broken.

“So you hit him?” Leo asked, voice breaking.

“I got…it all got tangled. Logan hates me. Finn hates me. Alex, Percy, Will, even Luke…”

“You hardly even know them.”

“You hate me.”

“I don’t.”

Jack took a long time before shaking his head. “You do.”

“Jack. I hate what you did to me I hate how you treated me.” Leo took a breath. “I don’t think about you enough to hate you.”

Leo turned and gave himself the pleasure-pain of being the one to walk away first.

“Le,” Finn whispered. Leo could tell he was looking at Logan, probably wide-eyed, but he didn’t dare move from his place hiding against Finn. He heard him mouth softly to Logan, Happy? What the fuck?

“Leo,” Finn said again. “Leo.”

Logan was scrambling up from his place in a moment. He squeezed himself to sit on the very edge of the bed against Leo’s back. Leo felt him lean over him and pull at his sweatshirt.

“Leo,” Logan whispered. “Non. Non, non…”

Leo let out an ugly sound and clutched Finn closer.

“Baby,” Finn said. “Look at me.” He went to reach with his bad arm and hissed in pain. “Look at me. This isn’t your fault. Oh my God, Le, this isn’t your fault, baby.”

He felt Logan curl his body over his, felt his nose press against his jaw. He pulled until Leo sat up, but when he tried to wrap him in his arms, Leo stood.

“It’s true,” Leo said. “Hockey does tangle with everything else.” He stood, looking at them sitting side by side on the bed. “And I know that because Logan wants to kill Jack for what he did, and so do I. Think of—Fenrir and Remus.” Remus’ career almost ended, just for a number on a ranking board. “Or Regulus and Sirius.” Feuding over family nonsense. Jack. Jack, Jack. “Things…unravel. And they come out on the ice.”

“That doesn’t make you responsible,” Finn said. He had a bright flush to his cheeks. He was leaning back into his pillows more.

“Jack came for you because of me,” Leo said.

“Leo,” Finn said softly. He lay back on the bed, hand to his forehead. He closed his eyes. “No, baby, you…” He trailed off.

“Finn?” Logan whispered. His attention was pulled away from Leo and he leaned over Finn. He put a hand to his cheek. “Oh.” He reached for the cup at Finn’s bedside and, instead of holding it to Finn’s mouth like Leo had expected it to, he dipped his fingers into the cool water before running them through Finn’s hair. Finn let out a relieved sound. “Just rest, Rouge. Let’s get you home.”

Leo held his breath. He felt stupid. So stupid, standing there. Talking about himself. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and watched Logan press feather-light kisses to Finn’s face.

“Mon rouge, just sleep. We’ll check out and we’ll go home. We’ll go home.”

“Leo,” Finn mumbled, eyes closed.

“No,” Leo heard himself say. “No, never mind.” He moved towards the door and felt Logan’s eyes follow him.

“Soleil,” Logan began to say.

“I’ll take care of the paperwork,” Leo said, and pushed out the door.

#vaincre lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #wolfstar #coops #sirius black #remus lupin #o'knutzy #finnlo #sunfish #lelo #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #Leo knut #James potter #wolfstar au #sports au #hockey au

177 notes · View notes

clickoly · 4 months ago

Text

O'Knutzy Week - Day 1

I saw the prompt Racing on the bingo card and I couldn't resist.

Me? Watching twenty cars go vroom vroom in a circle for sixty laps every other weekend? Absolutely not.

Here's the first of five parts of Starboys, a Cubs Formula One AU!

(Leo will arrive in style, fashionably late, tomorrow)

Characters belong to the amazing @lumosinlove. A big thank you to @oknutzy-week-2024 for organizing the fest.

A5: We lost

Link to Ao3 here

Monza, Italy

National Automobile Racetrack

The late August heat radiating from the pit lane was anything but a pleasant welcome. Sliding his sunglasses into messy hair, slightly sweaty from a short walk under the scorching sun, Logan took a quick look around.

The Silver garage was uncharacteristically quiet, with only a few mechanics loading tires onto trailers, probably setting them up for tomorrow's free practice sessions.

The weekend hadn't even started yet, and Logan already wished it were over. He ached to wash away the feeling of too many sleepless nights off his body, to get rid of the latent headache that had been haunting him for days—ever since he'd boarded that flight from Amsterdam alone.

What would happen if he refused to show up? Would they fire him? He actually considered hiding for a second, just as the back door to the offices opened.

"Logan?"

The unmistakable sound of Celeste's voice made him turn around.

"Oui, maman?"

"Don't maman me, Tremblay," she stepped closer. "You're late."

"I know," Logan risked an innocent grin. "Please tell me why I have to do this."

The threatening look he earned was more eloquent than any real answer. "Okay, okay," he held his hands up in a sign of truce. "Who's at the press conference?"

Celeste had a habit of memorizing every single detail of his schedule. "Olli, Thomas, Jackson and Finn," she recited. "Do I have to remind you to behave?"

"You know I hate those fucking-"

"Language," Celeste playfully pressed a finger to his chest, then tilted her head toward the door. "Go charm everyone with that sweet face of yours."

"Yeah," Logan huffed. "If anyone so much as breathes a word about last week, I swear to God–"

"You will kindly remind them it was a misunderstanding."

"Mais non," he tried to reason. Had it been a misunderstanding?

"Logan, they want to throw gasoline on this already raging fire. We won't let them."

"Fine," he gave up. There was no point in arguing with her. "But he better be on the same page."

Celeste Dumais wasn't just any manager. She was a friend, a steady presence at Logan's side. And she also happened to be the scariest human being he'd ever met in his life. At least when she wanted to be.

"Go," she insisted. The bossy yet extremely loving tone came out, capable of commanding an army and taking care of a wild household at once. "Behave, and be ready for dinner at six. Pascal is taking us to his favorite restaurant in town, and Katie wants to show you she's learned to eat spaghetti."

"All by herself?"

"And with a fork. Can you believe that?"

Logan's smile was genuine. "Merci, maman."

Down the hall in the Media Center, Logan could hear the loud chatter of people. He checked his watch and realized that they were probably waiting for him to start the conference.

Media day, real fun.

The same old faces welcomed him as he sat down at the end of a long red couch, right next to Thomas Walker, Racing Bull's first seat.

"Care to join the party?" Thomas whispered, muffling his words from the cameras.

"I'd rather not," Logan crossed his arms and leaned against the backrest. "But apparently I have no choice."

Thomas tried to stifle a laugh as the journalist spoke into his microphone, drawing everyone's attention.

"Welcome everybody to the drivers' press conference ahead of the FIA Formula One Italian Grand Prix," he said to the cameras. Years of interviews and conversations with this man, and still Logan found it tricky to understand his thick Scottish accent. "Here are our five drivers joining us today. Closest to me is the home hero for this weekend, Finn O'Hara."

Finn actually smiled for the audience and politely returned the greeting with a grateful nod.

"Then we have Olli Halla, Jackson Nadeau, Thomas Walker and Logan Tremblay. Welcome to you all."

Every other Thursday afternoon on race weekends, when his teammate James wasn't on call, Logan was forced to sit through the same boring go-to questions—usually asked by the same three people. What can you tell us about last week's results? What are your expectations for this weekend? And each time, he tried his best to hide his discomfort behind safely prepared answers, carefully tailored to avoid any kind of drama—the very thing reporters were always looking for.

"Why don't we start with you, Finn?" The man, Tom, asked. "How does it feel, as an American, to be able to race again in red in front of the Italian crowd?"

"Oh, man," Finn laughed, and the rapid clicking of camera shutters instantly filled the room.

Fucker.

"This is incredible," he went on. "Every year it feels like coming home. The fans are amazing, and their support means everything to me and, of course, to the team."

Not only was Finn an elite driver, but he also had an innate talent for winning people's hearts with the silliest of comments. Finn O'Hara was pure charm, and Logan hated to admit it, but he had always been a little jealous of his natural way with people—reporters, journalists, fans. Finn acted like he was born to be in the spotlight and, most importantly, on the top step of the podium. It came as no surprise to Logan when Finn received a multi-year contract offer from the most prestigious racing team in the world, the one people could name without thinking twice when asked about Formula One.

Ask a child to draw a car, and they will certainly draw it red—the same crimson as the Scuderia's vibrant and historic livery, the flagship of Made in Italy.

"Let's move on to Logan," Tom said eventually, his voice as calm and punctuated as usual. "Shall we go back to last weekend? I believe it was a tough one for you, but you still managed to finish the race."

Logan took his time answering. He grabbed the mic, untangled the long cable twisted at his feet, and slowly pulled it to his mouth, white knuckles clutching the metal casing. "It was," he said coldly. His free hand reached for his hair, feeling exposed by the absence of his snapback. "But there's not much to add, to be honest. As I said in the post-race interview, I got damaged by the contact and the car lost a little performance in terms of aerodynamics," he explained calmly.

"The safety car he..." Logan trailed off. "The safety car helped. The mechanics did a mega job during the pit stop and fixed the problem enough to let me cross the finish line."

But I still don't know why it happened.

"It was absolutely a fantastic team effort," agreed Tom. "What about your predictions for this Sunday?"

Logan's lips twitched on autopilot into a cocky smile. "Oh, I can totally see a win."

"Best of luck to you," the man smiled back. "Now I think we have time to take questions from the print media."

Logan tensed. This was the tough part, when sports journalists went on a merciless gossip hunt, looking for the best headline for their next article. And once again, Logan found himself in their crosshairs.

It didn't take long for Tom to give the floor to the most annoying of them all.

"Peter Jones, ESPN F1," the man said as he switched on the microphone. "Finn, the DNF at Zandvoort cost you important points in the battle for the championship," he paused. His greedy eyes flicked not so casually between Finn and Logan. "What are the consequences in the close fight between you and the current leader?"

A subtle question, because Logan knew exactly where this was going. He couldn't help but turn to look at Finn, who sat up straighter on the couch and inadvertently moved a hand to rub the back of his neck—as he always did when he was nervous.

"Like you said," he cleared his throat, "it's still a tight fight. I made a mistake and I apologized, because..." Logan heard the hesitation in his voice, a faint tremor. "We both lost something last week. The race, good points..." Finn's eyes went blurry for a fleeting moment. "But I have to focus more on the future if I want to close the gap between us. And that's still my goal, so I'd say nothing has really changed".

"So everything's okay between the two of you?"

Logan had watched the footage in his hotel room. He remembered storming out of his box. He had wanted to talk, to understand. And they just ended up yelling at each other in the middle of the paddock. Fifteen minutes later, the pictures were all over the Internet.

Sparks flying on and off the track. Tempers flare as Tremblay and O'Hara clash after today's collision, the official F1 account had captioned the post on Instagram.

"Of course," Finn nodded, a half smile on his lips, uncertain. "Yeah, good rivals and all."

Rivals. That's what they were these days. Faces of the rivalry between two legendary, antagonistic teams. Names in capital letters on magazine titles and website headlines.

One against the other.

As soon as they were dismissed, Logan bolted out of the room. It was four in the afternoon, and he still had to find a way to get out of the circuit unnoticed.

Logan wasn't being hostile. He loved his job and the life that came with it—or almost all of it. Even if it meant exposing himself more than he actually liked.

Just not today, not now, not when the constant pounding in his head kept his focus far away, trapped in a conversation he wished had turned out differently.

He was close to the exit door when he heard footsteps running after him.

"Logan, wait."

"Not in the mood," he said without looking back.

"Lo." a warm hand cupped his shoulder. "Please."

They hadn't talked in almost a week, a first for them. Finn had texted, but Logan had needed time to figure out why he was so upset. In the back of his mind, Logan replayed the scene for the thousandth time.

Lap fifty, one hour and forty minutes into the race. Logan was leading the Dutch Grand Prix, going through Sector 2 with a 0.286-second lead over Finn, who had his DRS open. At the entrance to Turn 11, they were neck-to-neck, fighting for the apex.

The contact between the two cars happened out of the blue. It felt like a punch in the gut.

Logan had watched the tape over and over, looking for a valid justification, an explanation. There had been plenty of room for both cars, and yet Finn had pushed him off the track, damaging Logan's front wing and knocking himself out of the race.

"You lied," Logan said firmly, still with his back to Finn.

"What?"

"You said you apologized. But you didn't."

Finn let out a heavy breath, a hint of disbelief in it. He stepped in front of him, tall and broad as he was, brown eyes unbearably sad.

"You think I did it on purpose?" he asked, his voice shaking with emotion.

Logan held Finn's gaze. He felt all the tension in his body release at the sight of the hurt on his face. "Finn, I could never. Merde, I just... I don't understand why you snapped at me like that."

You know what, Logan? Fuck you too. I don't have to explain anything to anyone. Just leave me alone.

"I didn't mean to," Finn ducked his head, shying away from him. "I was tired of people asking me what happened and..." he shrugged helplessly. "You were so angry and I was furious because I'm an asshole and that was a fucking rookie mistake." Finn finally looked back at him, "I'm so sorry, Lo. I should have told you right away. I'm sorry."

We both lost something last week. Something.

Logan closed his eyes.

Competitiveness was rooted in his DNA. He'd been racing for as long as he could remember, and he knew he would become a professional driver from the moment he sat in a kart for the first time at the tender age of five. The son of Marius Tremblay, a legend of the sport, following in his father's footsteps.

He'd come a long way, with ups and downs, blissful achievements, countless defeats and steady improvement. And yet he'd found his way to this, to be a two-time world champion at the pinnacle of motorsport. To compete for a third title against Finn, the best friend he could've ever asked for. The only thing he hadn't expected to find on this competitive journey, and yet the most precious.

Logan had lost a race. That was it, a mistake. He certainly wasn't going to make the one to let Finn go. He could barely stand the idea of fighting with him.

Still, he kept his face straight. He would never have given in that easily. "Listen," he said seriously, fighting the urge to hold Finn as he grew even paler, the freckles on his nose and cheekbones a stark contrast to his milky skin. "If you're not taking me out for a drink tonight, we're done."

A sparkle lit up those helplessly kind, soothing eyes. "We're not supposed to drink alcohol, Tremblay," Finn smiled shyly.

"D'accord," Logan rolled his eyes and bit back a smile of his own. "Alcohol free it is."

#o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #lumosinlove

27 notes · View notes

noopienoopiernoopiest · 25 days ago

Text

Pascal Dumais - #9 - Cold Hands/Warm Heart

For Fic-O-Ween with @noots-fic-fests. Based on @lumosinlove's universe, and more specifically based on this little snippet she graced us with here.

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Celeste/Dumo

CW: food and alcohol

Description: What was Celeste and Dumo's first date like? Let's explore one possibility.

“He’s Canadian, too. French Canadian even. Trust me. You’ll like him.”

“That isn’t the only criteria, Kathrine,” Celeste had said. “It’s not even the most important one.”

But Kathrine had gotten wrapped up in an editor call, and they’d never picked up the conversation again until the day of.

“Look. He’s gorgeous and nice. And you should see him.”

“I don’t know him.”

“That’s what dates are for, Celeste. Put on your best fuck me dress and go see.”

Celeste snorted. “That’s jumping the gun, ouais?”

Kathrine shook her head. “Tell me that after you meet him.”

“What did you say he does for a living?”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, what’s his name?!”

“Nope, not that either. Just trust me. You’re perfect for one another.”

So now, here she was, paying for a taxi into Midtown on a Saturday night, dress acquired, and pulling up to Lespinasse. At least from the reservation, he had money or taste. Or, maybe both. If it was awful, she was only about eight blocks from the office. She could always just make her way there and finish her copy for Monday.

Katherine would probably call her out for thinking about work on Saturday, even if the date was terrible, but Katherine had gotten her into this mess. She didn’t get to have an opinion.

She made her way to the bar and fought for the bartenders attention to order a Cosmo. She’d lived in New York for three years now and she still hadn’t adjusted to how fast everything was all the time. She missed Val-d’Or more and more these days. Sixteen-year-old Celeste had seen the sleepy streets and rolling countryside as stifling. Now, when she was drinking burnt coffee from the communal coffee pot and trying for the fourth time in four hours to get the words on the screen to play nicely, she missed the quiet pace of things, the fresh air and familiarity.

“Bonsoir.”

Wait.

She knew that voice.

‘You’ve got a beautiful voice.’

She turned around and sure enough, it was him. Pascal Dumais smiled warmly at her, but after seeing her surprise, his hazel eyes grew concerned. He looked gorgeous, like he always did—brown hair pushed back, stubble dusting his firm jaw. She realized, belatedly, that this was the first time she had seen him outside of hockey gear or gym clothes. Well, his game day suits, but those felt like just another part of the uniform. The soft, black cashmere sweater had certainly never made any appearances at the stadium, and that was probably a good thing if Celeste’s heartbeat was any indicator.

“She didn’t tell you it was me, did she?” he asked in French, shoulders slumping.

“No,” she replied. She had missed French. Now she only got to use it when she called her mother back home. “She definitely failed to mention it.”

Pascal offered a pained expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. She made it seem as though…”

As though Celeste wanted to drag him to bed and ride his face? Because that had been told to Kathrine in confidence over brunchy Eggs Benedict and one too many mimosas.

“It’s fine,” she said, brushing away the thought.

“Ms. Gagnon—”

“Celeste,” she said. “If we’re going to go to dinner, the very least you could do is call me by my name.”

“Celeste,” he started again, raising an eyebrow at her. He needed to stop doing things with his eyebrows. He shouldn’t be allowed to do that. “We don’t have to if it’s going to make you uncomfortable. You didn’t know.”

“But now I do, and now I want dinner,” she said, sipping her drink and watching his disobedient eyebrows scrunch together slightly.

“With me?” He asked, something hopeful in his voice.

Celeste got up, fighting to keep the smirk off her face when she watched his pretty eyes rove over the dress, her in the dress. It was a good one, she had to admit. It was wine colored and cut to hug her hips and bust.

“Of course, Dumais. Who else is going to pay?” She asked smirking, walking past him to the host.

They were settled a few minutes later, drinks and starters ordered, and Celeste was ready to start asking questions. It was her job, after all.

“Tell me about home,” Pascal said.

“What?” she blurted.

“Tell me about where you’re from.”

“Val d’Or isn’t a place anyone wants to hear about,” Celeste said, quickly.

Pascal looked confused. “It’s where you’re from. Of course I want to hear about it.” He looked genuine, and it was his expression that got her talking. She told him about the fields, her family, her friends, and realized later that her plan had failed in the wake of Pascal Dumais’s charm.

She was sure she’d intended for him to be doing most of the talking, but instead he’d learned about her older sister, her childhood dog, why she loved writing and journalism the way that she did, and the very best place back home to get a cup of coffee and breakfast.

“You’re usually not such a talker when I’m trying to get quotes from you,” she said, taking a drink of wine.

Pascal smiled. “It’s easier in French. Easier without a camera, too,” he said.

“Do you miss it?” She blurted.

“What? Home?”

She nodded, a little embarrassed.

“Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. I like what I do, and I always knew traveling was going to be part of it. I do get lonely sometimes, though.”

She snorted.

“What?!”

“No way you’re hurting for company, Pascal.”

“Not Dumais?” His eyes were twinkling again. Eyes shouldn’t twinkle.

“Mmhmm, for now anyway. As long as you’re good.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, voice a little lower in a way that sat heavily on her stomach. “But, no. I’m sure I could get plenty of company the way you mean it.”

“But that isn’t what you want?”

“No. Not anymore. It gets old pretty fast. I don’t want someone to spend just an evening with anymore.”

“What do you want?” She asked.

“What does anyone want? A companion? Love?” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Lots of people said they wanted those things, but in general very few of them meant it.

She shouldn’t indulge in this. She should shut it down. Instead, she asked, “Well, what does that look like for you?”

“I want someone who wants to spend her life with me. I want to be able to lean on one another when things are hard, share the joy of when things are good. I want someone to know me, and I want to know her, too.”

“And if her whole life doesn’t revolve around supporting you?”

Pascal shook his head. “I don’t want that. I get it. Lots of the guys do. Lots of the women expect it, but I don’t want that for me. I want her to be able to be and do whatever she wants. I’m not interested in caging someone.”

“I don’t exactly fit the stereotype,” she said. “Literally or metaphorically.” She’d seen the wives. Lots of blonde, lots of tans, lots of slim waists and toned stomachs.

Pascal cocked his head. “I missed something.”

“I just…” She wasn’t sure how to say it. Maybe the best way was bluntly. “Look, I like my work, I can’t imagine quitting it, not now. And I’m not exactly trophy wife material by hockey player standards.”

Pascal’s mouth fell open like he was shocked, maybe was shocked. “Celeste. Do you know how long I’ve been begging Katherine to set me up with you? Months. If you’re worried about my interest, please, don’t be.” He sounded serious, almost stern. Like it was something not to be questioned.

Oh.

Well then. If he was serious…

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked, making a split-second decision. He was a big boy, hockey player. Surely, he understood the importance of making a call on the fly.

“What? We just got here.”

She looked at the fancy table, the nice, crisp linens, the waiters in bowties and shook her head.

“Yeah, but what I really want is some poutine. C’mon. There’s a Québécois on 6th who makes the best in town,” she said getting up. If he wanted her, really wanted all of her, then the heels and the cosmos and the whole getup weren’t going to do it.

“You’re serious?” Pascal looked confused.

She snorted. “About poutine? Always. He’s got smoked meat sandwiches too, but he sells out. If we hurry, we might get some.”

She held out her hand to pull him up. He didn’t hesitate before taking it, pausing long enough to toss some money on the table.

“Think he has Tourtiere?” He asked.

“Only one way to find out, Pascal.”

“Dumo. My friends call me Dumo.”

“Yeah? What should I call you then?”

Pascal smiled at her. “I think the only right answer here is whatever you want.”

“Good boy,” she said.

Something lit up in his eyes. Huh. Well, plenty of time for that later.

They got their coats and scarves from the coat check and headed into the crisp, November night. Just as they stopped at the corner, a large hand encircled one of her own.

“Couldn’t help but notice. Your hands are cold. Are they always?” He asked, looking over at her and giving her a devastating little smirk. Maybe he could keep doing the sparkling eyes, eyebrows, face things. Maybe she liked it. Maybe she liked him.

“Most of the time, yeah.” His, on the other hand, was warm like a furnace.

“Good,” he said, nodding. “More for me.”

---

Dumo was petting her hair, feeding her ice chips that tasted better than anything she'd had since the last time she'd been in this spot.

"She's perfect, mon amour. I'm in love."

"You always are," she said, leaning on his shoulder. Dumo took her weight, lending her his strength. Just then the nurse brought her back to Celeste. Celeste soaked the moment up. They'd already decided this one would be their last.

"What do you think, then?" He asked. Celeste and Dumo always talked about names but nothing ever really solidified until they saw the baby. Marc had taken nearly a whole day to figure out. He looked over at her with a little smirk, same little twinkle in his eyes that made her want to throttle him and maybe follow him off a cliff. It had been like that from the very start.

It came to her all at once.

"Katherine," she said surely. Dumo's smile told her he knew, remembered, exactly what she was thinking of.

"Bonsoir, Katie," Dumo said, touching the baby's velvety skin with the pad of one finger. "We're so lucky to have you."

#lumosinlove #fic o ween #sweater weather

18 notes · View notes

tea-moon-ster · 1 year ago

Text

O'Knutzy Week day 3

character credits to @lumosinlove, prompts and hosting credits to @oknutzyweek2023 .

Prompts: Cooking Mishaps; Dance; Smiles; Cookouts.

“What if we just leave them here?”

“Finn, no.”

“What if we leave me here?”

“Finn. Go put on your socks.”

A long, suffering sigh.

Finn detached himself from the wake of the muffins on the counter and disappeared into their bedroom. Leo stared at the them a moment longer.

He appreciated the effort. He sure did. When he’d started taking out the ingredients for the muffins, Finn had immediately jumped to help. The fact that he’d compromised the whole recipe was only marginal to Leo. Just like the wobbly form of his poor, poor pumpkin muffins.

They could almost pass as cute. Almost.

They’d tasted one together before leaving, just like his Mama always did. And now Finn didn’t want to leave the house with them.

Leo knew deep in his heart that there was something fundamentally wrong with those muffins. He didn’t think Finn could mess up that much, honestly, but there they stood. But they were also the muffins for team dinner, and Finn had helped, how cute was that? Leo wouldn’t say a thing about them.

He hoped the team wouldn’t notice and pester him too much.

•••

The Dumais’ house was welcoming and vibrating with life as always. Logan would always look back with affection at his bed in the basement, the nights on crumpled couches for movie night and constantly having four kids to play with. But he sure wouldn’t complain about his current situation. No sir, he though, Leo’s hand pressing against his lower back as they entered the house.

They were met by cheers, various yells of “Cubs!”, and a few sloppy kisses on the cheek. The off-season hadn’t been long. The team had met under every pretext, from basketball nights to vacations together. Falling back into routine, together, felt good, and right.

The kitchen was filled with pots and bowls coming from every family of the team. Everybody brought something, that was the only rule for team dinners. Leo had, for once, given up his salty dishes position, sticking to desserts with Lily, Chris and Evgeni.

As soon as Leo placed the muffins on the kitchen isle, Finn disappeared, muttering something about setting the table. Leo couldn’t blame him.The muffins were immediately under attack by a crowd of hungry hockey players and kids. Sirius happily took a bite, only to start chewing less and less confidently after a few times.

“Leo…what happened to your muffins?”

“Finn happened!” Logan called.

Leo rolled his eyes. “Finn tried to help but put baking soda instead of baking powder. And…some cheese fell in. I…yeah.”

“It’s not…bad,” Remus tried, studying his half-bitten muffin with indecision.

“Y’all can hide them,” Leo sighed. “Just don’t let Harzy see.”

Celeste put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll try to mask the taste with chocolate frosting.”

“Merci, Celeste.”

The backyard, their designated dinner place, was impeccable. A long, long table ran under a series of string lights, filled with baskets of bread and unmatched chairs. People were moving around to set the table, turn on the barbecue and catch up after summer. Katie was carefully putting vases of flowers from the garden in the already crumpled place in between the plates. Leo had missed all this. The moments outside of the rink that strengthened the bond in their team.

Somebody put music thought the speakers Pascal was so proud of installing on his own, and the smell of the barbecue began to fill the air. Dumo had announced it would be him and his garçons to take care of the grill that night. It was heart warming to see him explaining to Sirius, Logan and Cole how everything worked. But it was even cuter to see three grown hockey players following his every move with big eyes, nodding quickly and asking questions.

Soon, the long table in the garden was soon filled with chatter, laughter and hands passing plates and bowls. Leo tried to distract Finn from all the teasing about the muffins, and Logan smiled proudly every time they took a bite of the meat and vegetables grilled by him. He seemed to remember every single piece.

After dinner, the music in the yard turned slower and softer. Pascal was the first to pull Celeste in the middle of the cleared grass, making her laugh and spin. The others were quick to follow. A grinning Thomas, letting Noelle lead. James and Lily, smiling and chatting softly. Remus was melting against Sirius in a gentle rocking back and forth.

It was the kind of hopeless romantic moment that would have had Finn standing up in the bat of an eye, ready to dance with his boys under the gentle eye that was the moon. And he was. As soon as the sweet notes of a love song filled the yard, he was smiling and tilting his head at Leo. But the blond simply smiled back and pointed at something behind Finn’s back. Finn turned, perplexed, only for his eyes to widen in surprise.

Logan rolled his eyes around a smile too big. He stood straight and composed, an arm behind his back and the other still in the air, in front of a shocked Finn. He kept it up and visible, not faltering in the long moment Finn only stared at him. But it was alright. He’d wait eras for Finn.

“Mon rouge,” he smiled, feeling heat travel up to his cheeks. A wonderful kind of exposure and wait filled the space between them. The kind of adrenaline of asking out on a first date, or a school dance. He felt at the edge of a cliff, at the mercy of wind and waves. But it would be alright, because he was looking at Finn. And Finn had always been his lighthouse. “Shall we?”

Finn’s smile always lighted his nights.

Their eyes never left each other as Finn took his hand and stood up, letting Logan bring them to the middle of the improvised dance floor.

Finn was an elegant, old-fashioned boy at heart. He knew how to mix them cocktails and read poetry with the right stops and rhythms. And of course, he knew how to lead Logan in a slow dance. He eased a hand on his waist, gently moving them in well-practiced steps. The other hand was clasped to his, and his head tilted to the side. But Logan could see his eyes, sparkling with happiness. A happiness that, he knew, would turn into a vacant, distant stare for just a moment during their dance. A brief but inevitable thought of the past. And then Finn would return to him, dopey smile and wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. The past was something they could talk about anytime, now. And they’d understood and forgiven each other. It had all turned out in the end. But Logan also understood that in a little corner of Finn’s wonderful mind, there were scars that wouldn’t fade.

Logan was doing best to be visible lately. Taking their hands during their walks, choosing fancy, romantic restaurants for dinner instead of a nameless pub, where the world would only see them as friends. Restaurants where he could hold their hands on the table and feed them bits of his dessert. Finn was loving it as much as Leo did. Both Finn and Leo presumed that, together with the love, there was an effort to compensate for the wait, the lack of before. Both had reassured him multiple times that there was no need, no need at all, because they’d been happy before and they were happy now. But Logan was on a self imposed mission of romanticism, and Finn wouldn’t be the one to stop him.

Logan was quick to fall into Finn’s flow. It was after a twirl that he nudged their noses together. “You know, I used to be so scared of people seeing and watching,” he said. “But now…the only thing I want is to show you and Leo all over the place.” Finn left a gentle kiss on his lips before letting him continiue. “I’m still nervous around people, I guess that’s just who I am. But here…I know that these people want to see us happy, and together. I love being that with you.”

Finn had to rest his cheek against Logan’s temple after a deeper kiss. He looked around. The string lights hanged around the garden shined in soft lines that framed the night sky. Leo was looking at them and smiling even more brightly. He’d surely taken a few pictures of them. He’d show them lately that night, while getting ready for bed, like he always did. Logan shifted, maybe so he could get a snoop of Leo, too -Finn wouldn’t blame him.

Around them, the atmosphere sweetened the edges of people. James and Lily went back to their seats. Sergei made his wife laugh. Kasey and Natalie were dancing in a quiet corner, a phone balanced on a glass pointed at them. A video, Finn realized. For Alex.

Logan shifted a little, pressing a hand into his lower back. “Hey,” he whispered, without stopping the gentle rocking. “I want this song at our wedding.”

Finn stopped.

“What?” he breathed faintly.

Logan just shrugged, without letting the hand on Finn’s back falter. He smiled, a devastating half-smile that was melted gold in the low, warm light of the garden. Unaware of the turmoil those words had caused in Finn. “Ouais,” he nodded. “I like this song.”

“Logan.”

He heard Finn’s breathing breaking into smaller, quicker fits. Logan frowned, but what he feared would be the start of tears was followed by Finn’s laughter. Low in his chest, vibrating against the hand steady in between his shoulder blades. Two hands were grasping Logan’s shoulder and shaking him before he knew.

“Logan. You can’t just say that to me.”

“Non?”

“Nom.” Finn passed a thumb on his cheek, eyes wide and a little glossy. “You can’t.”

“Dommage.” Logan kissed him. “Because I will.”

They let the next song pass in a gentle hug. Finn’s arms circling Logan’s neck, temple drawn together. Logan could feel Finn breathing against his neck. He never wanted to move.

“Hey. We should do it more often,” Finn whispered, as if afraid to disturb their little bubble of bliss. Logan nodded. They swung around the grass some more, and then decided that they needed Leo to dance.

They didn’t find him at his seat, but he came back a moment later with a beer. He turned to look around, a hand on his hip.

“Y’all, we need a yard. I want to host these cookouts.”

Logan laughed, nodding. Finn took Leo’s hand, pulling him close.

“Sure, baby. We’ll get you a big yard. Come here.” Finn guided him on his lap, lacing his arms around the goalie’s waist. He sniffed a little. “All the yards you want.”

“Finn, were you crying?”

A knowing smile from Logan made his frown disappear. “I told him I wanted to dance the song from before at our wedding.”

Leo’s expression softened. He cupped Finn’s face with his hands, leaving a soft kiss on his temple. “Oh, honey. Yeah, that’ll do it.”

For a while, they just watched the rest of the team dance and talk. “Yeah,” Leo repeated after a while. “I want a yard. A big yard. Like my parents’.”

“Oh, that’s a really big yard,” Logan said. Leo raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t like my parents’ yard?”

“No, I’m just saying. That’s a lot of space. It’s not a yard that you find in the city. Rimouski’s yard is optimal.”

“That’s not as big.”

“Hey, it’s not big, but there’s plenty of space to have fun. Size isn’t everything. It depends on how you use it.”

“Please stop making erotic references while we talk about our future yard.”

“What do you want in our big, big yard, Peanut Butter Better Butty Baby?” Finn song singed.

Leo tilted his head. The way his eyes shined with the string lights did all sort of things to Logan. “I want a place for the barbecue. A big patio so we can read outside when it rains and a garden to grow our own veggies. And, you know…place for some sort of playground, one day?”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. Finn groaned, hiding his blushing cheeks into Leo’s shoulder. “Did you two decide if was Let’s make Finn cry night? Was this premeditated? You should be thankful I’m not wearing any mascara.”

“Finn, you don’t own a mascara.”

“And thank God for that. I’d be a mess by now.”

Logan sighed, leaning in for a kiss. “You’re so weird. Come here.”

•••

The yard gradually turned less and less crowded as people began to call it a night. There were pats on the back and, finally, a lot of “see you on Monday”’s. But three chairs hadn’t moved in almost an hour, and three pairs of eyes were staring at the night sky. Three pairs of hand were busy holding each other, or stroking gently a leg here or a strand of curls there. Low laughter came from three sleepy smiles.

“…And we also need a pool,” Logan yawned. They’d been talking about sweet nothings all night, but the mental image of that yard, one day, big and filled with love, and people, little people he hoped, hadn’t left him all night. “Because I like swimming and I like seeing you two in swimsuits.”

He didn’t add that he’d build a big slide so their kids could have fun in said pool.

Leo nodded, suppressing a yawn of his own. “I rectify: we need an outdoor pool for the fun, and an indoor pool because I like you two even more without swimsuits on.”

“Oh, ouais. I like that. Let’s just get pools.”

“Yeah,” Finn nodded against Logan’s shoulder, a hand passing through Leo’s hair. “I’ll get you two all the yards and the pools you want.”

Leo sat starigher to cup th eback of Finn’s neck. Soft lips met his. “I know, sweetheart.” And Leo knew. Finn always had that sparkle in his eyes, that pressing hand against his back. That veneration that made him remember about a starless balcony, and the promise to light up Leo’s nights in every way he could.

And he had.

He brought Finn’s hand up to place a gentle kiss on it. “Harz.”

“Mh.”

“We’ll get you everything you want, too, baby. Everything.”

Finn was aware of his inability to accept words and acts of kindness in a normal way. He felt a need to earn them, otherwise the guilt would take over and he had to scroll them off. It took a lot for Finn to believe he deserved good things. But he was finally feeling like he could let go a little. The ropes they used to build their relationship would not get loose if he relaxed into Leo and Logan as he so ardently wished them to do with him.

They’d build the good things together.

#o'knutzyweek2023 #o'knutzy week 2023 #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #leo knut #logan tremblay #lou's writing

37 notes · View notes

itsaash · 2 years ago

Text

Fic-o-ween day 11: Costumes

Fic-o-ween Day 11: Costumes

Character credit to @lumosinlove and prompt from @noots-fic-fests

Rating: G

Summary: The Dumais, all in costume, convince their new billet (bb Sirius!) to go trick-or-treating with them

Read on ao3, if you prefer. 3200 words

Celeste heaved a sigh of relief as she walked into the baby’s nursery, closing the door behind her, and flopping into the rocking chair to nurse Katie. It was a regular day, with lunches and school runs and crying and being needed at every turn. But, for this moment, in this sweetly decorated room, with twinkle lights along the ceiling (which were admittedly as much for her as for the baby) Celeste could just sit, and she could even close her eyes. She put her feet up on the footrest, rested her head back and savoured the simple needs of a baby. Despite today being a normal day, it was also Halloween. The kids had been counting down the minutes to trick or treating all day. She must have answered the question, “When mama, when??” two dozen times. She was looking forward to taking them all out, but it was also just a lot, and her mind ran through the the to-do list:

Get kids in costumes

Me in costume

Pillowcases for everyone

Stroller for when they get tired

Water bottles

Make sure to convince Sirius to join in

There’s cut up veggies in the fridge ready for when we’re home (hopefully balance out the candy at least a little)

Change of clothes for Katie in case of a blow out

Look over Pascal in his costume to make sure he’s not too recognizable

The thoughts circled around and around her mind while she took the time to rest her body and cuddle her baby. As much as Katie needed the quieter environment to focus on eating, Celeste needed it too. She could still hear the excitement and busyness of her family drifting through the closed door.

“Louis, mon petit, you need your sweater on before your costume!”

“Non papa je ne veux pas le sweater!”

“Daddy! Have you seen my blaster?”

“Marc! Please do not lick my face paint off.”

“Daddy!”

“I’ll help you find it in a minute, cherie!”

Celeste sighed in a mixture of exasperation and fondness. Getting three small children into costumes was no small feat, but she was sure Pascal would have most of it done by the time she left the sanctuary of the nursery.

“Louis! I think a sweater underneath your costume will make you look even more like a minion,” she heard Sirius’ voice say, in a sweetly cajoling tone.

“It will?” Louis asked doubtfully.

“Mais oui, minions are quite round, and if you wear a sweater you will be minion shaped!”

There was a long pause.

“Can I wear two sweaters!? Then I will be as round as a circle!” She heard Sirius laugh. “Let’s go choose the perfect sweater and then become a minion, oui?”

She heard little feet run towards the boys’ room, and was eternally thankful for their sweet new billet. He was so good with the kids, they all loved him already. But she couldn’t help notice how he had no idea what a Minion was before Louis and Marc introduced him to them, and he couldn't tell them who his favourite superhero was. She knew he had been focused on hockey, but he could be too quiet, too careful. But in the past six weeks that he had been living with them, he was already starting to open up.

Katie was done eating now, and Celeste sat up to burp her, brought her to the change table and cleaned her up. She dressed Katie in a comfy sleeper, then put on a big, warm sleeper, red and covered with black spots. “Aww, my Katiebug the ladybug, you are the sweetest bug I have ever seen!” Celeste cooed at Katie, making her smile. Celeste bravely left the quiet and safety of the nursery. She placed Katie in her swing and a tiny spider-man attached itself to her leg. “Oh hello spider-man!” she laughed at Marc. He laughed and ran away again. Pascal came into the room, looking only a little bit harried. And very much actually hairy. He was in a one piece jumpsuit, covered in hair, dressed as Chewbacca. He had painted his face with the kid’s face paint, lines of different colours of brown all across his face and black circles around his eyes and on his nose. He didn’t have the hood of the costume up yet, but the whole effect was very good. Celeste laughed, and softly trailed a finger across his cheek.

“The face paint looks amazing, love. And you already have the height, you’re a spitting image.”

“Rrruuurrrr,” said Pascal. Celeste laughed, swatting his chest.

“Ok then Chewy. So Marc looked ready, I heard Louis go with Sirius, is Adele ready?”

“Oui, my love. She’s all dressed. Have you seen her blaster?” “Yes, Louis had it earlier. I think it’s on the blue couch. Does Sirius know he’s coming with us?”

“He’s not in a costume yet, but I won’t let him get away without joining us. I’ll go find the blaster and a costume for him, you get your costume on, and then we’ll be ready,” Pascal answered. Celeste felt a flicker of sadness at her plan for a costume. She already had on black leggings and a black shirt, with only a few spots of spit up. She went to the front cupboard to choose her long, flowy black coat, and then to the dress up box to grab the witches hat. After tucking her hair into a low bun, she put the hat on. Well, that was done then. She paused and looked around. No one was asking her for anything right this minute … she hurried to her room before anyone could find her and ask for snacks, and put on the deepest red lipstick she had, it couldn’t be called black but it wasn’t really red either, some mascara, and on a whim trailed the mascara wand in an arc across her cheekbone to paint some black lines on her cheek. She smiled in the mirror, glad to have gotten to fancy up her basic costume even a little. The bags under her eyes went with the aesthetic.

When Celeste came into the entryway, her family was nearly ready to go. Pascal in his furry suit and painted face as Chewbacca, Adele beside him as a miniature Hans Solo (she had even found her blaster), Marc was in his puffy Spider-man costume and Louis a minion. Pascal was waving a handful of clothes at Sirius and speaking French, convincing him to dress up. Celeste went to get Katie from her swing.

“The hood is so big, Sirius, if you have the hood up no one will see your face!”

“I don’t want to intrude on your family time, Dumo,” Sirius said solemnly.

“Nonsense, you helped with Louis and his costume, another adult will only be helpful. And the children will love having you!”

“Please come, Sirius!” she heard Adele say, and knew that Louis was holding Sirius’ hand.

“Don’t you want candy, Sirius? Did you know we just knock on doors and people are going to give us candy?” Louis asked, genuinely wondering if Sirius knew how trick or treating works, because how could he not want to come?

Celeste came back, starting to put Katie in the baby wrap against her chest. She paused, and came up close to Sirius, putting her hand warmly on his arm, not grabbing, just pressure.

“Please come, Sirius. We want you there with us,” she said. She saw the fight go out of his eyes, he sighed dramatically and held out his hand for the costume Pascal was still holding out.

“Excellent! Let’s go, Obi Wan,” Pascal said.

Pascal had already gathered enough pillowcases so that Sirius could have his own, and passed him one when he was dressed in the beige tunic, brown belt, and long dark brown robe, which did have a very impressively sized hood. When Sirius put it up it did cast his face into shadow very effectively. Celeste finished wrapping Katie to her chest, put the diaper bag and water bottles into the stroller, and they all went out the door, with the little boys running ahead in exuberance and anticipation of candy.

Walking just a few blocks from their house they were able to come to a street that was a trick or treater’s dream. The houses were all decorated, no long driveways or gates, really the maximum number of doors to knock on with the least amount of walking. There were blow up decorations everywhere you looked, some scary decorations, some funny. It was early yet, but there were children and their adults everywhere, their voices ringing choruses of “Trick or Treat!” into the evening air.

Katie was the age where you still count it in weeks, small and warm, her little body tucked into the wrap tight to Celeste’s body. She had adorable ladybug antennae bouncing with each step Celeste took. Pascal came to walk beside her, Adele near to him and Sirius up ahead with the boys.

“You look beautiful, my love,” he said, bringing her into a side hug. He traced Celeste’s cheek, and then Katie’s. Celeste laughed, looking up at her husband, covered in hair and face paint.

“I’m not sure I can quite say the same, love. You look very much like a wookie. But thank you. Maybe next year I can plan a costume that takes more than one minute to execute,” she sighed. She should’ve been Leia, or Luke, or someone, not just the lazy mom version of a witch.

“You have chosen the perfect costume for this year, ma cherie. And you are always beautiful. And I know you’ve been working and planning for this evening all day, non, for weeks. Merci for all the work you did to get our costumes ready for us tonight,” he said. He leaned in close as he spoke, speaking honestly and lovingly. He was about to kiss her as he usually would, but then they both remembered the face paint and pulled apart, laughing. Celeste felt a bit better, and squeezed Pascal back.

“Later, love. Now, do you think Sirius has been trick or treating before?” Pascal sighed deeply, taking Celeste’s hand as they walked, the first house on the block coming up.

“You know, I am really not sure.”

“Well, he is now,” she said firmly.

“Yes, he is now, thank god,” Pascal gave her hand a squeeze and then hurried to catch up with Sirius so they could all walk up to the first house together. He put an arm around Sirius’ shoulder while reminding the children of trick or treating manners.

Celeste stayed about halfway up the walkway to the house while the others stood at the door, the children added their voices to the choruses of “Trick or Treat!” and “Thank you!” She could tell from here that Sirius was uncomfortable, but the kids were so excited for him that he shyly took a mini chocolate bar into his bag, saying thank you again and again. As they left the door, the person in the doorway held out the bowl meaningfully to Celeste.

“One for the baby?” they called. Celeste laughed and waved.

“She’s too little, it’s ok.”

“No,” they said meaningfully, and did quotation marks with one hand while holding the bowl in the other, “for the baby”.

Celeste laughed, but went to the door and chose a Reece’s cup with a laugh and a thank you, and went to join her family.

They went on like that, house to house. One of the children was always pulling Sirius along, and Celeste alternated between holding hands with Pascal, or shepherding one child or another away from the street, passing out water bottles or putting on and off hats and mittens as the evening went on.

A few blocks into their trick or treating adventure they came to a house with a tall hedge all across the front of the property. The house was decorated with spiderwebs all across the hedge, and there were pieces of creepy, white, tattered fabric hanging over the entrance to the walkway, like a spooky beaded curtain. Pascal went ahead with the children, pushing apart the strips of fabric for the younger ones, making a show of being on an adventure. Celeste touched Sirius’ arm with a gleam in her eye, nodding her head back to the path. They snuck back to the sidewalk and stood one on each side of the walkway, their backs pressed to the hedge, waiting in ambush for the others to come back with their latest treasures.

Sirius and Celeste exchanged excited smiles and Celeste’s heart and smile grew to see Sirius smiling so genuinely, and to see such a large boy trying to make himself small against the branches, as if he could hide behind anything smaller than a California Redwood.

They held their breath as they heard footsteps approaching and waited until everyone was passing through the blowing strip of fabric and then they both jumped forwards, yelling and waving their arms. (Well, Celeste waved one arm, and covered Katie’s ear that wasn’t against her chest with the other.)

All of the kids shrieked in delight and surprise, and Pascal, with only a second of delay to make sure the kids weren’t actually scared, just happy scared, set off into the most dramatic act of shocked surprise Celeste had ever seen. He berated Sirius in French for making his heart stop, playing up his betrayal and fear even more when he saw Sirius bent over laughing at Pascal’s dramatics.

“That was a good one, Sirius, I will give you that. We’ll have to try that on James at the rink sometime, oui? I think he would shriek in the most satisfying way. Or maybe Kuny, especially if we wear these outfits. But you, you better watch yourself. I will be thinking of some way to get you back.” He put his arm around Sirius and they all kept walking and laughing.

“It was Celeste’s idea!” Sirius laughed.

They went another block before crossing the road and turning around to visit the houses on the other side of the street on their way home. Everyone was still having fun, but Celeste had a niggling in her gut that they needed to wrap this up, and Marc and Louis were taking turns being pushed in the stroller by Pascal.

Sirius, Adele, and Louis were up ahead a little way, with Marc in the stoller. The light of a streetlight glinted off a black bench along the boulevard, the sun was officially down now and the shouts of happy, sugar filled children floated through the dark air. Celeste and Pascal settled onto the bench with a sigh, Pascal’s arm going around Celeste’s shoulders, hugging her into his side to share body heat. The fur of Pascal’s costume tickled Celeste’s cheek.

“We should get home soon, love,” Celeste said contentedly.

“Ouais, I was thinking the same thing.”

They watched Louis yell trick or treat with Adele while Sirius stood a little ways back, shyly stepping forward to take a candy into his bag when the homeowner waved him closer. Celeste smiled.

“He’s starting to thaw,” she said.

“Mmhmm,” Pascal hummed. “Starting to, yes. I think many layers of ice have been built over that boy through his life. It makes me wish I could meet his parents on the ice, sometimes,” Pascal said quietly.

“We’ll get through to him,” Celeste said confidently. “It’s so clear his heart is open and kind, it will just take time.”

“Yes, time, and time with a true family,” Pascal agreed. Celeste hummed back, tilting her head up to him. “You’re my family, my love,” she said into the crisp air between them.

“You are the best family I could ever have dreamed of, ma chérie,” Pascal murmured back, and leaned down to brush their lips together, only transferring a little bit of facepaint between them. “Let’s make Sirius part of it too, oui?”

“Absolument.”

The happy trio returned with their latest plunder, the smiles on their faces glinting under the streetlight as much as any light-up decoration in the neighbourhood. Celeste had thought Marc was more asleep than not in the stroller, but as the others approached the excitement, sugar, and late night culminated into what she had felt in her bones was coming - a high pitched, whine of a cry.

“But I didna get candee! No fair papa! I wan candy too!” Marc yelled, kicking his feet in the stroller.

Celeste saw Sirius freeze, the smile falling from his face, expression clear and frozen under the light. Celeste was more worried about that expression on Sirius’ face than Marc’s crying - she knew how to help Marc. Knew that Pascal knew what to do. But that frozen, watchful look at the first sound of crying? What had happened to warrant that reaction from a toddler’s cry. Celeste felt her heart expand to surround Sirius in that moment. Her children were all around her, and the love of her life, and now, Sirius was in that circle. He was hers now too, hers to feed, and love, and treat gently, maybe for the first time.

Pascal had crouched down in front of Marc, had tried to remind him that he had a pillowcase of candy just there. But, of course, the day had progressed past the point where logic was logical, and Celeste smiled as Pascal picked up Marc and put him up his shoulders.

“Ohhh, ma petit, you need candy from that house?” he said, pointing. “The one Louis and Adele just came back from?” Pascal asked, teasing, cajoling.

“Oui papa,” Marc sniffled.

“Well then we must get some! Let’s go see what they have to add to your hoard my little dragon!”

“I’m no a dragon, papa! I’m spidyman!” Marc giggled.

Pascal bounced Marc on his shoulders all the way to the door and Marc giggled brightly when the person at the door pretended not to be able to reach high enough to give him candy and tried to jump. Pascal and Marc rejoined the group, and Pascal kept Marc on his shoulders, going up to the last few houses energetically, keeping Marc laughing at the bouncing pace. Sirius must have seen the same look in Louis’ eyes that Celeste did, because he crouched in front of Louis, just as Pascal had with Marc, and offered him a ride on his shoulders. So a minion rode on Obi-wan’s shoulders, and Spider-man rode on Chewbacca's, and Hans Solo sat in the stroller to be pushed home by a witch with a tiny bouncing ladybug. And Celeste’s body was strong, and tired, and her heart was full. H

#sweater weather #lumosinlove #fic o ween 2022 #pascal dumais #celeste dumais #sirius black

23 notes · View notes

futurebicon · 3 years ago

Text

But the real question is does Celeste knit all whole team Christmas sweaters like Molly does in the HP books?

@lumosinlove

#lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #coops #oknutzy #celeste #Dumo #Celeste dumais

46 notes · View notes

moonyswriting · 3 years ago

Text

Pride

Happy Pride Month everyone! Whether you queer or questioning, closeted or out, I am so proud of you, you are valid and perfect! Remember that you never have to come out if you don’t want to. You’re not lying to anyone if you don’t. You don’t owe them to come out. Only do it if you want to. Also remember that labels can stay forever or can change and both is perfectly normal. You're fantastic the way you are. <3

So, I managed to write a pride fic for the first day of pride month! yay me. I hope you like it :)

Thank you for the idea @moonofthenight

Characters by @lumosinlove

When Pascal came into their living room it had never looked more colourful, but it had also not looked this messy in a long time. There was tape on all four sides of the table, paper and little paper cut outs all over the floor and in the middle of everything, all his four children, looking like deer in the headlights.

“What happened?”, he asked slowly. There would be a reasonable explanation for all of this, he was sure. Celeste had probably helped and they would clean everything back up in no time, leaving no trace of a mess before the team came over for dinner tonight.

Adele shuffled over looking at the floor. “Um,” she stared before glazing back at her siblings, who nodded at her encouragingly. “So, we decided to make some things for the others. You know, since you’re having that Pride Party tonight? We thought we’d make little gifts for the team.”

Oh, Pascal’s heart was already a puddle. “You-”, he stared, but couldn’t continue. He had questioned a lot if he should have raised his children differently, more open to the rainbow or attractions and genders (or lack thereof) that was out there, but this made him feel like he and Celeste had at least done some things right.

Pascal only realised he hadn’t properly said anything yet when Katie rushed towards him, hugging his hip. “Please don’t be mad. I promise, we’ll clean it all up. Mama said she’d help us!”, the big eyes of his youngest daughter stared up at him, guilty, but hopeful.

“I’m not mad, mon chou.”, picking her up, he turned towards the other three, still standing in front of him. “Not at any of you. This is an incredible idea! The team will love them. Thank you so much, it’s really thoughtful.” Leaning down, he placed a kiss on each of his childrens’ foreheads, including Katie’s before setting her down to get back to the others. Celeste walked through the door the next moment, flowers of all colours in her hand.

“You found our little pride squad then?”she asked, walking past him and into the kitchen, probably to cut off the ends of the stems. “Don’t worry, I’ll help them clean up and we’ll be done before any of your teammates even leave their houses.”

His wife knew him too well. He hated when other people visited them and their house was messy. Of course there had been times where he couldn’t really keep it clean with four toddlers running around, but he still always tried and his family knew that and helped him. It wasn’t really that it bothered him that visitors could see that they were possibly not clean people, it was just the principle. He thought it should that they were prepared and anticipated someone’s visit. He never wanted them to think it was a bad time to visit because he would eventually excuse the mess. He always wanted everyone to feel welcome.

And that’s what tonight would be about. Making his team feel always welcomed and loved and accepted.

Celeste returned back to their dining room without the flowers, kissing Pacal’s cheek and then turning towards their children. “Did you show him what you made already?” they shook their heads but quickly climbed up onto chairs and sorted through the things they had made. “They’re all really cute, I already saw some of them.” Celeste whispered giddily into his ear, as excitement bloomed in his chest and they walked over to look at the crafts.

“Here!” Katie waved a piece of paper in the air and Pascal walked around the table to look at what she had made. SHe beamed up at him as she explained, “This is for Tremzy! And Harzy and Knutty! It’s a card and I drew Lo, Leo and Finn on the front, see!” The man took the card in his hands. There were three stick figures on it, the smallest with brown hair, the next one with bright red hair and the last, taller than the other with yellow hair. In the back there were blue, red and black dots. “Why did you use those colours, ma petite?” He did have an idea, but with the many coloured pens on the table it could have just been a coincidence.

He could see Katie look over to Adele and Marc, before her eyes met his again. “Del and Marc said that those are the colours when you have more than one love and Logan has Finn and Leo, so they said I should use those. They look good together right?” Pascal could see that he wasn’t the only one close to tears after glazing over at Celeste smiling brightly. “Yes, Katie, it looks beautiful. Lo, Leo and Finn will love it! Adele, Marc, thank you for helping your sister. I know that this will mean a lot to Logan.” then as if he couldn’t help but to add, “I’m also very proud of you for looking up pride flag colours. I’m really happy you're informing yourself about these topics. They’re important.”

They all smiled at him. Pascal went over to Louis next. “I made two! This one is a card for Olli and Del and Marc also helped me with colours, so it's black, grey, white and this really nice purple that Katie gave me. It didn’t really match the photo, but I liked it better than the really dark one. Do you think he’ll mind?” The fact that his youngest son actually looked concerned staring down at his work had a tear spilling over. He let out a wet chuckle. “Non, je pense qu’il va l'adorer, c’est parfait. For who is the green one?” Louis pulled it out from under his other one and now Pascal could see it was not just green. There were black, grey, white and purple stripes on it too. “It’s for Reg! See, it’s got these stripes and then I drew this heart above it, cause even though he doesn’t want a boyfriend like Siri, he still gets all the love he needs from me and Siri and you and Re and the rest of the team!” Celeste came over and placed a kiss on his cheek, “He loves you too, mon lapinou. They look amazing.”

He walked over to his older son, he didn’t know if he could be any prouder of them. “ I made one for Kasey, Nat and Alex.” Marc stated as he handed his father one of the cards he had made. There were three heads on it, one with long blond hair and hoop earrings, one with light brown hair to the shoulders and one with dark red hair, freckles filling up more of his face than the light pink his son had used for all their skin tones. Pascal was about to compliment it, when Marc gave him another one. “This one is for Nado and Kuny. I made it full of hearts in pan and bi colours, because you mentioned that once and I really hope it’s right.” before Pascal could even think his next thought a stack of cards was placed in his hands. “And then for some of then we didn’t know, but we didn’t want them to feel left out or asume, so I made some rainbow ones for Pots, Talker, Sergei, Timmers, Cookie, Bluey, Ringer, Volley, Wrangler, Sunny and Foxy.”

Pascal was a bit shaken, not only that his son even remembered everyone of his teammates, without missing a single one, but at him having crafted every single one of them a rainbow card. “They will all love them, I’m sure. They look incredible.”

He saw Adele look down at her cards and moving them slightly out of view. Frowning, he walked over to her, “Did you also make something, ma colombe?” She nodded, pulling out one of her cards and holding it up for him to see. It was beautiful. She had glued blue magazine cut outs on the top of the cards, which got lighter til they reached a white in the middle and to green ones at the bottom. Over it there was a heart which read “Some hockey players marry their PT, get over it” He didn’t know how she had thought of that, but it was true and funny and so Adele, Pascal had no choice but to love it.

“These are all perfect. Thank you so, so much for making them, they’ll all love them I’m sure. We can tell them to all sit down in the living room so you can give them their cards later, sounds good?” They all nodded, seemingly happy with the idea. “Now let’s clean up before they come here and don’t recognize the place, eh?” All of them nodded as they got up, Celeste telling them where to start and how to clean it.

Pascal moved to the kitchen with the tray of now empty glasses Celeste had no doubt gotten them earlier, when he heard something behind him. Once he had carefully placed down everything he turned around to see Adele standing in the kitchen, arms behind her back. He waited for her to speak for only a moment until she did. “So, you saw that we made cards for everyone, because they’re all great and we should let them know we love and support them, right?” Pascal nodded, letting her continue, “But there’s one more card I made,” Pascal had counted before, his children hadn’t forgotten a single one of his teammates, he had no clue what that last card could be for. “because it’s important that they know they’re loved right?” she continued, “that’s a really important part of all of this. So,” she slowly pulled out a card from behind her back, “this one is for exactly that. Just because someone’s not queer or questioning, doesn’t mean they’re not important this month. It’s not the main focus of it, of course, but having allies is a big part of being able to be proud of who they are for some people. I wanted to thank you for that. I could have gotten some homophobic dad like some of my classmates, but I’m really, really glad I got you.”

She handed him the card she had made, similar to the collage of magazines but in black and white stripes with a rainbow A covering it. He couldn’t help the wetness that gathered in his eyes again. And here he had thought the emotional stuff wouldn’t be until the team arrived. He walked forward and hugged his oldest daughter. “Thank you so, so much,” he whispered, since he didn’t trust himself with anything else to come out anywhere close to evenly, “Thank you, ma petite. I am so proud to have you as my daughter. You’re the best children I could have ever asked for.”

74 notes · View notes

lovemeleo · 4 years ago

Text

Dumo meets Asher

Well it’s finally time! Dumo’s gonna meet his little namesake. This was requested by many people so of course, I had to write it! I hope you all enjoy. The SW world belongs to the ever amazing @lumosinlove.

If you haven’t yet, I recommend reading Coops Become Dads first:

Part 1

Part 2

__________________________________________

After a few days with Rachel in the hospital, they were finally able to take Asher home. It still felt unreal to walk into their house with the baby carrier. They had a son.

The first week was a bit rough, getting used to waking up throughout the night for feedings or changings but they got a good routine going. Asher was really good about taking his bottles and that boy just loved to sleep.

Once they were settled, it was time to have Dumo and Celeste over to meet him. Sirius had been wanting to have him over since they got home, but Remus convinced him to wait until they had a couple days of their own. A text was sent to Dumo when Asher was two weeks old, a cute picture of him in a baby Lions onesie with a message asking them over to meet him..

No one on the team had met him yet, only pictures being sent through the group chat with just the first name. They hadn’t told anyone was middle name yet, that was a surprise. Remus knew that Sirius wanted Dumo to meet him before they officially brought him to meet everybody, which was understandable.

Sirius was getting Asher dressed as the doorbell rang, a giant smile spreading across his face, “Vous allez rencontrer votre aujourd'hui grand-papa, mon chou.” Asher gurgled at him causing Sirius to laugh, “I know, I know, you’re very excited.”

He could hear Remus letting them in downstairs as he picked the baby up, cradling him gently, “Let’s go, ma petite étoile.”

As he walked down the stairs, three pairs of eyes quickly swivelled up to him from the living room. Remus smiled, “Hey, Pads. We were just wondering when you two were going to make your grand entrance.”

“Sorry, someone decided it was time for a bottle. And then a changing.” Sirius said with a laugh as he walked down. He could see the way Celeste’s fingers twitched to reach for the baby already.

Dumo smiled warmly, “No need for apologies, we’ve been there, mon fils.” He didn’t have the same control as Celeste obviously, hands automatically reaching out. “Now let me see the little guest of honor.”

Laughing, Sirius gently handed him over, “Of course, I see where I stand now.” He muttered teasingly, sitting in the empty spot next to Dumo. His eyes flickered to Remus who was smiling. Sirius smiled right back, because honestly they hadn’t stopped. It still felt like the world’s best dream.

Celeste leaned over Dumo’s shoulder, “Oh, look at that face. Bonjour chérie! Tu es si précieux.” She cooed, her finger tracing over his chubby cheeks. “I love the name, Asher. It so suits him.”

Remus nodded as he watched them, “We chose it for the meaning. Blessed, Happy.” He explained with a soft smile.

“And the middle name?” She asked, resting her head on Dumo’s shoulder.

Remus’s eyes flickered to Sirius, who already seemed to have tears welling in his eyes. He gave him an encouraging nod, reaching over to grab his hand.

Letting out a shaky breath, Sirius nodded, “His middle name? C'est Pascal, après son grand-père.”

Dumo’s head quickly whipped up, eyes wide, “Après moi?” Celeste’s hand came to wipe a stray tear from his face as she sniffled.

Sirius let out a shaky laugh as the tears began to fall down his cheeks, “Of course. You showed me love and compassion at a time when I didn’t even know what it meant. You took care of me during some of my darkest times, and I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. You are my father in every way that counts, and there’s no better person in the world to name my son after.” His voice cracked, but he spoke with conviction.

Remus was so proud of him.

Tears fell steadily from his eyes as Dumo reached forward, pulling Sirius in for a hug, “Oh mon fils, I would do it all again in a heartbeat.”

Sirius leaned into him, resting his head on his shoulder, “Merci beaucoup, père.”

Asher let out a soft whine between them, his small fingers reaching out to grab at Dumo’s shirt. They broke apart, looking at the small being, “Well it seems like someone doesn’t like sharing the attention.” Sirius said, wiping at his face. Remus held out a box of tissues to them, laughing softly.

“Just like his dad then, non?” Dumo chuckled, watching as Asher wrapped his small hand around one of his fingers.

Sirius nudged him gently, giving him a teasing glare, “Just like his grand-père.”

Smiling softly, Dumo nodded, “It would appear so.”

#coops #baby coops #sirius black #remus lupin #lumosinlove #coops become dads #sweater weather #wolfstar #fluff #fic prompt #kid fic #pascal dumais #celeste dumais #wolfstar dads #wolfstar fic #inspired by lumosinlove #fic #so much fluff

149 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 2 years ago

Note

a prompt:

sirius and regulus argument. probably something which has been manifesting for a while, like it starts with short sly comments and then builds up to create tension within the family (cuz i consider them part of the dumais family) so dumo tries to comfort one or both of them in the end? kinda long prompt, it’s just something that i’ve not seen and would like to see how it would work?

Gnaw at the Bone, because I just can't leave these two alone. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW** (please be gentle with yourselves!): canon shit childhoods (no graphic abuse), Walburga and Orion's A+ parenting, sibling parentification, panic attack, bad coping mechanisms (skating), and past minor injuries from said coping mechanisms

“Sirius.”

“Reg.”

His stomach twisted. His head throbbed. His mouth tacked over, lips sticky, chapped, too much, not enough. Years of it. Stars in orbit, on a collision course with anything that came too close—their gravity was inescapable and destructive to the nth degree. They ruined everything but each other. That gravity would rub and chafe and grind at their rough surfaces and it made him sick to think about it.

Oh, it made him sick to think about it.

“Sirius.”

“Reg.”

And that was it—a clipped acknowledgment from scowling lips, then resignation. Regulus disappeared down the hall with his pasta. Sirius watched him go, shook his head, and headed in the opposite direction with a white-knuckled grip on his cup.

Alright then.

“Everything okay?” Pascal ventured.

Sirius jumped, his glower lifting for a moment in surprise, as if Pascal hadn’t been sitting there for over an hour. “What?”

Pascal tilted his head toward the empty doorway and set aside the broken toaster. “Everything okay?”

His mouth dipped in a grimace; his brow wrinkled like he was trying to find the weak link in a failing play, but something simmered beneath. “We’ll figure it out,” Sirius finally answered. “We’ll—it’s Reg, you know?”

Pascal didn’t know, actually, but Sirius was gone before he could ask for an elaboration. In fact, the only thing he knew for sure was that Regulus had gone through a period of rapid character development over the past nine months and that Sirius didn’t stop loving him for a single second of it, even through the snappish attitude, even through those horrible interviews that Regulus clearly regretted. They were two sides of the same coin with the unfortunate ability to be as evasive as greased weasels.

Celeste would say he was being nosy. Pascal preferred to think of it as a natural desire to engage with his kids as a loving, supportive parent.

He looked down at the toaster, then back up at the opposing doorways and sighed. It seemed some detective work was in order.

“Remus! How are you, mon ami?”

“I’m…good?” To his credit, Remus recovered quickly and offered a light fist bump in greeting. “What’s up?”

Pascal waved a vague hand. “The usual. House is good? Dog is healthy? Boyfriend is happy?”

Bingo. A shadow flickered over Remus’ face before it smoothed out into his usual neutral friendliness. “Yeah, we’re doing great. We were thinking of repainting the living room soon, so if there’s a day you want to borrow the dog, I’m all ears.”

“Parfait, I’ll let you know. And Regulus?”

There it was again—the tension, the twitch, the passive smile. “I think Sirius is just glad to have him home. It’s really been great getting to know him. He’s a sweet kid.”

He might be, but he’s been getting on your nerves, too. If Pascal knew anything, that would piss Sirius off more than any insult Regulus hurled his way. “I’m so glad to hear it. It’s good for them to be near each other right now.”

He clapped Remus on the shoulder and stood before the younger man could respond. It wasn’t just a one-time problem, then; whatever the seething, festering thing between Sirius and Regulus was, it had seeped into their everyday function. Enough that it had even begun annoying Remus ‘Patient’ Lupin. Pascal might not be able to fix their issue, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give them a nudge in the right direction.

Sirius was right where he left him, hunched on the bench with a whiteboard in hand, though his pen served more as a drumstick than a writing instrument as Pascal approached. The tip-tapping stopped when he ruffled Sirius’ hair and took the seat next to him. “Defense,” Sirius muttered by way of explanation. “There’s a gap. Tremzy’s a killer when he goes in for a shot, but we need to close his spot when he moves.”

Pascal hummed in agreement and propped his skates up on the boards, letting the battered wood take his weight and ease the ache. “Good eyes.”

“ ‘s what I get paid for.”

“You seem tense, mon fils.”

“Hmm?” Sirius blinked. His eye contact was pristine, but his attention was lightyears away. “Sorry, just thinking. Did you need something?”

Pascal offered a wry smile. “What, you’re too old to let me sit with you?”

The deep crease between Sirius’ brows smoothed out; he smiled softly. He blinked again; this time, a bit of him returned. Not beyond all hope of intervention, then. “Non. Desolé. I’m…I’m in my head today.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

A few seconds passed before Sirius nodded. Pascal watched his gaze go distant again and his cheek dimpled as he bit the flesh inside. Guilt. Perhaps frustration. A twisted mystery to solve, if Pascal had not been watching him so closely since he first blessed their threshold. It was Regulus, it was Remus and Regulus—

It was something from a time Sirius had been trying to lock down. Ghosts were hard to trap behind hasty boards, nailed haphazard and half-panicked. Sirius was better, not healed. He was safe, not exorcised. He was so goddamn brave it hurt to watch, but Pascal wasn’t foolish enough to miss the way he spooked. And Regulus was a good kid, but a fucking mess all the same.

(Privately, he questioned the decision to go headlong into university right after escaping 18 years of living hell. That was not his place to challenge and not his problem to solve.)

(But still. University? Really?)

Sirius made another note on his board. A canine tooth poked out as he worried at his lower lip. Pascal watched him fidget, hands up and over and under and between, and steadied himself with a slow exhale when Sirius began twirling his pen over his knuckles with a dull, rippling noise.

“Regulus is angry with me.”

Pascal made an impassive noise. It was Regulus.

“I think. Probably.” Sirius’ knee bounced for a five-count before going still. “He’s working through a lot. Finals were hard. It took him off-guard. He got snappy at Remus.”

Remus and Regulus. “Oh?”

“Something about changing his sheets. He didn’t like that we went in his room to clean while he was away.”

Something from a time you’ve been trying to lock down. Not mutually exclusive events, but a progression. Sirius was fixed on a far point, no longer tracking the movement of players. His hands had gone quiet.

“I think I—I think they—” Space hung between them like a bear trap. It was horrible to be right. Sirius exhaled hard and shook his head. “C’est pas grave.”

Pascal bit back his disappointment. He knew better than to think it would spill out so easily. He scooted closer on the bench, and when Sirius didn’t flinch, leaned over to bump him with a gentle shoulder. “Don’t let it eat you up, ouais? Regulus is grown. So are you. It will come in time.”

A halfhearted nod was the best he would get, it seemed. Pascal risked a soft squeeze to the back of Sirius’ neck and—there he was. The loosening of his tense shoulders, the careful lean into the contact. “We’ll talk,” Sirius said.

“Take it slow,” Pascal advised, and prayed to any god that Sirius would at least listen to that. Those who shoved their hands in the cage of a feral animal only came away bitten and rabid. For all his growth, Sirius was plenty feral without the influence of Regulus Black ripping him open again.

They watched the drills together in silence for forty-five minutes. When they were done, Sirius’ clipboard held only blank paper.

“Tuney and I were really close. As kids, I mean.”

A light, fluffy cloud passed overhead on the rushing breeze.

“We did everything together. Like, literally everything. Mom used to joke that we should’ve been twins.”

The pain in her voice was one he knew well.

“We started drifting when I hit junior high, I think.” A controlled, even breath followed the gentle sound of a dandelion being picked. A few bits of fluff floated in and out of view. “And then high school came around, and she hated my fucking guts. Shredded all my tights with a fork. Refused to look at me in the lunchroom. Mom and Dad didn’t tell her it was okay, but they didn’t stop her, either. They just kind of sat there and looked sympathetic.”

Quiet fell over them again. A strand of hair billowed over his vision for a half-second. Time for a haircut.

“I still don’t know what I did,” Lily confessed to the afternoon sun. “I still don’t think she’s forgiven me.”

Looking at Regulus now, Sirius thought he might finally understand what she meant.

The corner of Regulus’ mouth was turned down; not more than usual, but enough to be a scowl to anyone who knew where to look. Quietly, he hoped Regulus’ school friends could tell the difference. He deserved to have people like that. Sirius wasn’t sure he had explained that very well before sending him off. Or ever.

“It’s a good book,” he said.

Regulus made a noncommittal noise. He hadn’t turned a page since Sirius paused in the doorway.

Another try. Pull back to the midline, find an open corridor. “One of my favorites.”

“Je sais.”

“Why are you angry with me?”

Once upon a time, he would not have been so bold as to ask. Once upon a time, Regulus would have sunk further into his cocoon. One pale finger traced the edge of the worn paperback. “I’m not angry with you.”

You’re always a little angry with me. “You won’t look at me.”

“God forbid I’m busy.”

“You’re reading.”

“And I’m busy,” Regulus said waspishly. “Go get Remus to take you for a walk, or something.”

Maybe this was where Lily had failed. In one way or another, she and Petunia had missed each other in the middle. He could recall those six terrible, lonely years with too much clarity to let Regulus push him away. Losing him would never be worth an argument won. “I want to spend time with you.”

“Then get your own book.” Regulus muttered something else under his breath that Sirius didn’t care to look into.

He swallowed down a sigh and picked one at random off the shelf, then settled down on the couch opposite Regulus’ armchair. The words could have been in Portuguese, for all they registered in his mind. The edges were soft from many hands. It might have been Remus’, or from the secondhand bookstore in town. God, it could have been one of Sirius’ own favorites for all he knew. He was working on knowing more of those.

The color blue, but a specific shade.

Tater-tot casserole, preferably with meat, acceptable with just cheese.

Books with adventures, books he could run away in.

Poutine with extra gravy.

Henley shirts that stopped at his elbow.

Hoodies—not the zip-fronts—made of heavier fabric. The ones where Remus had fussed with the cuffs.

“What’s your book—”

The sudden snap of cover on page made him wince; an irritated grumble-sigh hung on its coattails as Regulus swept out of the room without a backward glance. Sirius’ stomach turned, and turned, and turned. He always fucked it up. He always tried too hard. He shut his book in silence and set it on the floor, and went to get his skates.

I’m not an infant. Bared teeth and clenched fists. A charge in the air, a snake ready to strike. And you are not my fucking mother.

Remus wrinkled his nose and scrubbed harder at the grout.

Nightmarish, is what it was. The summer had been sun-soaked and semi-charmed with only the awkwardness of getting-to-know-you’s to taint it. But that was Remus’ perfect wheelhouse—polite conversation, buttering up, small talk to ease Regulus into a world that wasn’t actively trying to shred him. It had all worked so well.

He didn’t know what went wrong. Worse, he didn’t know how to fix any of it. Regulus was constantly boiling with silent fury like a kettle about to blow and it was terrible. Every second Sirius and Regulus existed within each others’ eyeline was hell. And they were living together. For twelve more days.

If they all survived this, Remus was going to take himself out for a little treat. One that did not involve scrubbing the kitchen grout just to avoid running into either of the ticking time bombs.

Regulus’ hissing colliding with the low, furious timbre of Sirius’ voice was not something Remus wanted to experience again, in this life or the next. Nobody won. Everybody lost in one way or another. Sirius got angry and Regulus got angry and Sirius got defensive and Regulus got mean, flat-out and full-send. Sirius snapped back, Regulus stormed off, and Remus spent the better part of his night assuring Sirius he was not turning into his parents. Rinse, repeat, wish for death.

Commotion kicked up in the living room and went quiet in the same breath—Remus paused to watch Regulus stomp off with a book in one white-knuckled hand and listened carefully for the aftershocks.

The house inhaled with him. The office door closed hard. Sirius’ footsteps were rhythmic as a metronome all the way up the stairs and back down again—Remus bit his tongue when he saw the skates clenched in one hand—and remained that way until the basement door shut him out.

Then, and only then, did Remus let a quiet, “shit” slip through his teeth.

Pull back to the midline. Pull back to the midline. Watch, pull back, find your corridor, strike.

The puck skated past the goal without so much as a whisper of net. Sirius hardly heard it hit the boards.

Remus looked faintly ill when they arrived at practice; Pascal was grateful for the early warning to prepare himself for Sirius’ perma-scowl and overall vibe of ultimate distress. The change in the atmosphere nearly made his ears pop. Leo made a hasty retreat from the locker room after Kasey, looking as if he had taken psychic damage, and several others watched him leave with unbridled longing.

“On-ice in five,” Sirius said. Ordered. Everything about him looked incorrectly articulated. “We’re running drills, then doing dry lands.”

Not a soul dared to try the usual bitching and moaning. All cheerful conversation had met its abrupt end.

Cole lowered his head and slunk out the door like a stray bit of shadow. The rest of them followed suit within a minute or two, save for James, who steered Sirius into the ice room with a firm hand on his back.

Plastic buckles clinked softly in the empty space left. “They’re worse?”

Remus slumped forward and muffled a groan in both hands. “They’re going to fucking kill each other.”

“Any idea what happened?”

Remus spread his hands with a lost expression.

“Did this start when Regulus came home?”

“It’s just been the past three days.” Remus shook his head, leaning his elbows heavily on his knees with his pads half-done. “I can’t—Reg was fine when he got here. He was fine through Christmas. Sirius mentions we changed his sheets before he came home, and now he wants my head on a pike and my boyfriend to explode.”

Pascal picked at the peeling logo of his shorts. Sheets. What was so special about the sheets? “Were they new sheets?”

“Same ones he used all summer. I literally just washed them and put them back.”

“So…he didn’t like that you were in his space?” Remus half-shrugged, clearly frazzled by the mere memory. “You know, Adele hates it when we go into her room. Even to drop laundry off, or help her clean.”

“No, yeah, Jules is the same. That’s what started it.”

“Started…?” Understanding crept up his throat like battery acid. “He didn’t.”

“It was bad,” Remus said weakly.

“How bad?”

The laces of Remus’ skates dragged on the ground while he shuffled in his stall. The lines of his arms were rigid and upset; he scratched at the back of his wrist, curled over like he was trying to shield his middle. “His feet bled again.”

Pascal closed his eyes. He should have pushed harder against the basement rink eight years ago. He shouldn’t have let Sirius leave so soon.

He forgot, sometimes, how very alone Sirius had been.

“I fixed it,” Remus said after a minute. Of course you did. He sniffed, shaking his head like he could hear Pascal’s thoughts. “It wasn’t too bad. Blisters, mostly, some hotspots. Made him keep the bandaids on for practice. I hate—Dumo, I hate this. I hate living in it, I hate seeing them tear each other apart. It’s so quiet.”

“They need to stop,” Pascal agreed. Remus kept looking at him for—a solution, he realized. Terrible hope. Something desperate and fragile, a young man coming to a mentor for help he just…couldn’t give.

He looked away first. Remus’ exhale felt like a knife.

“It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, it’s me—”

“No, no, no,” Remus soothed somewhere in the catastrophe of the world.

Sirius spit, again, and pressed his hands over his eyes, again, and willed the bathroom floor to stop digging into his knees and just swallow him up already. His skin crawled and he wanted to scratch but he couldn’t take his hands away or the room would spin and tip him into nothingness.

Maybe he belonged there. But he had managed to hurt Regulus when he was a country away, so perhaps he wouldn’t even be safe in the ether.

Remus’ hand was cool on the small of his back as he frantically tried to keep his dinner down. He didn’t rub. He didn’t tap. He didn’t so much as twitch. Sirius listed to the side and flashed a hand out to steady himself. The pain of his wrist hitting the cabinet didn’t even register until Remus hissed in sympathy and took his weight in the bend of his arm.

“I am treating him just like they did,” Sirius rasped through the smoke pouring from inside him.

“No.” Remus was begging now. He sounded so tired. He was begging. The room swam in the kaleidoscope of suffering that he really should be used to by now, and Sirius pressed his elbows harder into the toilet seat as his ears began to ring.

You are not my mother.

Sirius gasped in a too-hot breath. It had been directed at Remus, not him. But.

But he was.

It was so sick and twisted and his stomach made sure to tell him that with a real-world example of both those words.

You are not my mother.

She wasn’t, either. Their nannies had come close. Sirius missed them sometimes (often) (aching) (with the hurt of a child).

Remus was not Regulus’ mother but he had been, in the same scream-worthy way he had been his father, too, and his brother. He couldn’t think too hard about how he had been the only one to cuddle Regulus without crying and fuck, there he went, Sirius the drama queen making the whole damn world about him.

“Okay, okay.” Arms came around him, easing the slicing pain of the sobs that caught him in fishhooks. The back of his hand hit the floor. His knees hurt like a bruise. His face was smushed against Remus’ chest and it really should have been uncomfortable. Remus made a noise of sympathy and gathered all the gross, slimy, bits of a Sirius-puddle into his arms because he was a saint. The patron saint of fucking messes, and Sirius was the messiest sinner of them all.

“I’m so horrible to him,” he sobbed, hitching and sticky. Probably incoherent. He mumbled. She hated it when he mumbled. “I’m so horrible.”

You are not my mother.

“It was me.” He gulped for air. Remus’ dizzying words fell quiet at the interruption. He added another note to his list of penance. “It was me, it was, I tried.”

“What did you try?” Remus’ fingertips brushed away a loose, sweaty lock and the sobs came harder after that, wracking him down to his organs, past the precious cradle of his ribs. A warm palm cupped the back of his head and Sirius heard a strangled noise interrupt his own endless babbling. He didn’t know he could make that sound. With the way his throat and body were angled against the unmovable pillar of Remus, though, it shouldn’t have surprised him.

“I was—I was his mother.” It was so hard to breathe through the gasping. “I didn’t know what I was doing but I was his mother but I won’t be her.”

“Oh, god.” Remus sounded weak for a saint. There went another beautiful thing, ruined in Sirius’ messy clumsy hands. And somehow, in the darkness, in the Blackness, a kiss nestled just near his temple.

He couldn’t help but go still, then limp, as all the fight and fear siphoned from his flooded lungs.

Remus breathed like he was going to speak several times before he did. “There are other ways.” His voice was heartbreak. Sirius closed his burning eyes. “Sirius—baby, you know my mom. You know Effie, and Celeste, and you know Lily.”

Lily. He knew Lily. Her green eyes, so much pain and regret. Don’t be like me, Pads. Her green eyes, the way she looked at Harry, the way they matched. Sirius had his mother’s eyes. Had she ever looked at him like that?

“There are other ways to be someone’s mother. And…” His hands stuttered, then began to move again, scritching the back of Sirius’ head. That feeling usually made him go comatose in their bed. “Regulus was trying to hurt me when he said that. You know that, right?”

I am not an infant. And you are not my fucking mother.

Remus kissed him again. The shell of his ear, this time. “It wasn’t about you. I promise.”

But it was. There on the bathroom floor, it was.

The woman was watching him with infuriating patience. Sometimes—more often than he cared to count—she would even look away to her clipboard or her phone, and that was even worse. Regulus knew how to be ignored. He fucking hated her nonchalant attention.

Either look at me and pay attention or ignore me properly, he thought with enough force that it should have beamed into her brain directly.

Heather chewed at the corner of her lip and checked her texts again.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask questions?” he finally muttered.

She looked up, milk-mild. “Are you ready to answer them?”

You can’t trick me that easily. “Are they worth my time?”

“I certainly think so.” She tilted her head back and forth for a moment. “But it’s not up to me to decide. That’s your choice.”

“So I can just walk out right now?”

“Sure.”

Regulus only let himself pause for a second before regaining his composure. “I’m pretty sure my brother would murder me if I did that.”

“Your brother didn’t set up this appointment.” A smile made her face even kinder, like a storybook bear. “And I’m not allowed to discuss my other patients’ homicidal tendencies. But yes, Mr. Black—”

“Don’t call me that or I’ll puke, I promise.”

“—yes, Regulus, you are welcome to leave whenever you feel like it. I can’t legally force you into therapy and I don’t particularly want to. If you would prefer to sit here quietly, we’ve still got twenty minutes left.”

He bit the inside of his cheek.

“I have a spare crossword,” she offered.

Gifts. Of course. What an awful woman. He plucked absently at the threads of the armrest and slouched into the too-squishy cushions.

Silence reigned supreme for another five minutes and twenty-four seconds before Heather stretched her wrists and smiled at him again. “It’s good to see you, Regulus.”

“You don’t have to say that,” he snorted.

“I know.”

“So don’t.”

“Alright.” She tapped the side of her thumb on her clipboard. “I’m glad you came back. Is that better?”

“Will you stop with the mind games, please?”

Heather’s eyes softened. His skin crawled. “Regulus, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in my office. I would vastly prefer it if you did something you enjoy with this time, rather than forcing yourself to come and sit there and be miserable. I’ll sit with you if you’d like, but it seems like that’s not helping.”

His lip curled against his will. “So Sirius told you I’m miserable?”

“I haven’t spoken to Sirius lately.”

“You should. He’s a disaster.” Ignore that I’m a screaming teenage trainwreck.

“If he gets in touch with me, I’ll happily make time.”

“He won’t,” Regulus informed her. He wondered if she would stop him. Was there a point where he was no longer allowed to talk about her other patients? He already felt pathetic enough for refusing to use any therapist except the one Sirius had vouched for.

Heather hummed. “Guess that’s for him to know, and for me to find out.”

Push push push push push— “He’s been a mess. He’s doing that implosion thing he does when I’m mean to him. It’s like he thinks everyone in the whole world depends on him to be happy, and the second they’re not, it’s his fault.”

“And have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Been mean to him?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been terrible.” Regulus frowned slightly and sat up. “You know I’m not a nice person, don’t you? You should know that before we start anything.”

Heather seemed interested, but not confused. Infuriating. “Okay.”

“Sirius is the nice one.”

“Okay.” She nodded for a moment. “Why is Sirius nice, but you’re not?”

“You’re not—” He bit his tongue. Being mean to Heather was not what he came here to do. Wasting his time with someone who didn’t understand was not the point of this. “Sirius would have been much happier as a suburban family’s well-loved dog. He’s good like that.”

“Okay.”

“I was ignored for three-quarters of my childhood and have half a dozen complexes and attachment issues because of it. I am not a nice person at all, and so I take it out on Sirius because—I don’t know, I think it’s supposed to feel good, since he had everything and then he left me.” She was still looking at him. Mild and kind. Was everyone in Gryffindor obtuse enough to think he was kidding? “Heather, I am telling you that I’m petty and mean and use my older brother as an emotional punching bag because our parents fucked us up. There is nothing you can say to help me.”

“Supposed to feel good?”

Regulus blinked. “Pardon?”

“You said it was ‘supposed to feel good’ when you’re mean to your brother.” Heather rested her head on her hand. He wasn’t sure when she had put her clipboard aside. “Does it feel good?”

“Oh my god, no,” Regulus laughed hoarsely. “No, it feels like I’m the worst person alive. Why does that change anything?”

I just wanted them to like me.

It hadn’t even been about love, in the end. He had given up on that. Forget about pride—that was a lost cause. But he had yearned to be liked, to have a smile turned on him like the ones he only remembered in blurry dreams between sleep and wakefulness. Their father had light crow’s feet by his eyes. They were probably deeper by now. Their love was never going to happen but it really would have been enough to simply be liked. Regulus had been bright enough to stop hanging on to them far sooner; oh, yes, he had always been the smart one.

Heather had seemed sad when he said that. Sirius hated making her sad.

Pascal thought he knew where the precipice was. He thought they had more time to reel that celestial disaster back from the brink before they tipped over it, clawing at each other for grip and for hurt. Looking back, he felt like an utter fool for thinking he could have stopped them.

“You fucking liar!”

“I wouldn’t lie to you!”

“Yes you would, you always do that!”

“I—” Sirius’ mouth snapped closed; his jaw ticked with tension. “I wouldn’t—”

“You do,” Regulus insisted angrily. “Our whole childhood, and now this. I won’t fall for it anymore.”

“I told you, I didn’t go through your things—”

“Stop it.”

“It was just changing the goddamn sheets—”

“Stop it.”

“God forbid I want you to sleep on something clean!” Sirius shouted back.

Regulus flushed red, bright against his dark hair. “Don’t yell at me!”

“Are you—you started yelling first, you pain in the ass!”

“Oh, I’m just a pain in the ass now?”

Sirius threw his hands in the air with a furious noise and folded them at his nape, shaking his head. His stomach hurt and trembled. His throat was tight, and every swallow had to fight its way around an iron fist. The inside of his cheek was raw and tender from his teeth. “You’re fucking delusional.”

Remus straightened fast. “Woah—”

“I’m delusional?” Regulus laughed humorlessly, hysterically, all dry bonfire wit. “I’m delusional? I’m not the one that tried to start a brand-new family when the old one failed!”

The insides of his ribs were scorched black. “Don’t bring Remus into this—”

“I’m talking about him!” Regulus’ arm shot out. One pale, skeletal finger hovered in midair, an executioner’s axe. A hairline tremor shivered over his skin; his eyes gleamed.

Dumo had both hands on Sirius’ broken toaster, and both eyes locked on Regulus’ hand in shock.

“You had it all planned out, didn’t you?” Regulus’ face contorted. “From the second they called your name on the television. You were going to billet and you were going to go to him and fuck the rest of us, is that it?”

Sirius couldn’t feel his hands. I still don’t know what I did. I still don’t think she’s forgiven me. “Regulus, no.”

But Regulus just nodded, tears welling up despite the guillotine edge of his voice. “You did. And thank fuck for that, because then Logan came along and a brand-new brother just dropped himself in your lap without any effort at all. Your perfect parents, your perfect brother, your perfect, perfect life. How convenient.”

He shook his head. “No. No, it’s not like that.”

But.

But it was. A little bit, it was. Dumo wasn’t his choice but he was Sirius’ escape. And Logan…Logan had been so alone, so afraid, so young, hiding under his baseball caps like Regulus used to hide under his toques. Sirius had caught too many sidelong glances of dark curls and bitten back the wrong name those first few months.

Regulus could smell it on him. Could read Sirius’ guilt like a child’s book. His eye twitched. “I told you not to lie.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Sirius said hoarsely.

“I don’t care.”

“It was not my intent—”

“Fuck your intent.”

Lightning spit up inside him and he choked it down, tasting iron as it went. “Will you let me speak? Or are you going to stand there and yell until you feel better?”

Regulus’ face turned blotchy with rage. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Then stop acting like a child,” he snapped back.

“You sound like—”

“Do not.”

Something burnt coated his tongue as the lightning licked off it in a whipcrack and sparked between them. Regulus looked away, fists balled tight against his sides.

Sirius let the burning out on a controlled breath. “Do not bring them into this,” he continued carefully, even as a scream built under his lungs, kicking its feet and howling. “Do not bring her into this. I am telling you right now that you will not like how it goes for you.”

Regulus’ mouth twisted, petulant and bitter. “You’re really going to threaten me? Now?”

“I don’t threaten, Regulus. I win.”

“Because everything is a competition,” he sneered.

“Because you know better than to start that fight.” Sirius caught his gaze and held it with clenched, snarling teeth. Regulus knew better. Always the smart one, always levelheaded. Regulus, the wordsmith, and Sirius, blowing up the ground he stood on as long as he didn’t come out on the bottom. Locked jaw or locked antlers, dragging them both over the canyon edge before any thought of retreat. He had shouted himself voiceless before bending to their father. A simple locked door couldn’t block the endless screaming matches from Regulus’ memory.

“This isn’t a tantrum,” Regulus said at last.

The slavering dog in Sirius’ head sat back and eased its hold. He jerked his chin. “Then get to the point.”

“You left.”

“I was always going to leave.”

Regulus flinched, but to his credit, kept going. “You replaced us. Me.”

“Logan was never you.” Logan, young and scared, but not Regulus. Never Regulus. It had only ever taken a moment for Sirius to right himself, and less than that to be buried alive in guilt.

Regulus stared at the kitchen table. His nailbeds were white where he clutched the back of a chair. They’d have to get more iron into him while he was home; Sirius didn’t trust the university food. “You never came back.”

“For holidays—”

“You never came back,” Regulus repeated, louder. He blinked fast a few times, inhaling sharply. “You were never there for more than a day or two. You’d go dead the second we sat down together. You never—you never came back.”

“Regulus, that house was going to kill me.”

It came out too soft for the weight of it in the room. Regulus closed his eyes and leaned forward, stretching his arms with an unsteady exhale. Sirius kept his focus despite the building sting in his eyes but he could feel Dumo’s gaze on his neck, could hear Remus’ short inhale. There was no coming back from this. Ever onward, clawing his way out of the depths.

“One way or another, it was,” he continued quietly. “So, no. I didn’t go back. I won’t.”

The blur of Regulus tilted his face toward the ceiling with another shaky breath, still blinking fruitlessly as drops of mirrored light slipped down his cheeks. “Then how—?” He broke off and cleared his throat hard enough to make Sirius wince. “How could you leave me there?”

“I didn’t want to.”

It meant nothing; they both knew that. It still felt right to get it out there.

“I thought you’d come back,” Regulus said. “I thought you’d try. Once—once you had your first paycheck, or something.”

It hurt so much more to hear old, broken hope than anger. “They knew where I lived.”

“Then we’d move.” We. A child’s daydream. They made me hate you, but I never did. A phone number memorized for six and a half years. “We’d go somewhere else.” Regulus ran his sleeve under his nose and shook his head. “I was so alone. I don’t—” He looked up and immediately, his lip curled in disgust. “Oh, god, don’t look at me like that.”

“Reg—”

“Like a fucking puppy, merde.” He yanked his sleeves down over his hands and scrubbed viciously at his face, lingering over his eyes a second longer before letting them dangle at his sides again. He sniffled, then did a double-take when he saw Remus and Dumo on the other side of the room. “Why are you still here?”

“Um.” Remus glanced over at Sirius, but he had nothing to offer. “It…felt wrong to leave.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, though the effect was dampened by his red cheeks and slight pout. “You are all so codependent.”

“Don’t be mean,” Sirius chided instinctively.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Regulus gave him a quick up-and-down look. “We’re both ugly criers. Shit. Yell at me again.”

“…no?”

“Just do it, it’ll make me feel better.”

“I’m not going to yell at you.”

“Don’t make me insult you more. My throat hurts.”

“Do you want a hug?”

“No.” They stood in silence for another fifteen seconds. Wool socks scuffed on the floor. Regulus gnawed at the inside of his lip, then stepped around the side of the table an inch. “If it’ll make you feel better.”

He was over six feet tall, now. His hockey muscle had yet to fade. He felt—

Small. He felt safe. A shudder ran down his aching back. It had been so long since he felt safe.

“Desolé.” Sirius’ voice vibrated in the burrow of his chest and Regulus pressed his face to it as hard as he could. “Desolé, mon etoile.”

Tears snuck up on him in bursts; he pushed closer, closer, tucking his arms between them and shuffling forward until he could stand on the front of Sirius’ stupid slippers and let the cold floor fall away. He was tired of drowning, but it was hard to remember how to let the water out.

Sirius sniffed above him. The kiss to the top of his head was more of a hard bump than anything else. His arms were tight and warm around Regulus’ back, one palm cupping the back of his head. “I never forgot you.”

“Je sais,” Regulus croaked back.

“I never forgot you.”

Don’t, don’t, don’t. He coughed to clear the brackish muck from his lungs. He wasn’t pretty like this, and he knew it. But neither was Sirius, so maybe that was okay. Just this once. He could be held like a child, just this once. It was a long time before they spoke again.

“I don’t want to see Heather anymore.” He breathed in Sirius’ laundry soap and the same deodorant they had both been wearing for years. The rushing flood in his head had become a stream, had become a trickle. His heartbeat pulsed behind his eye. “I want—I want to see someone else.”

Sirius’ shoulders relaxed enough that he could feel each muscle release. “Good.”

“I still haven’t told my friends about—the everything.” He felt Sirius nod and gathered two fistfuls of his hoodie. “I want to stay at school.”

“D’accord.”

“What if they find out?” He held on tighter, pressed his face to Sirius’ calm heart. “What happens when they find out how horrible I am?”

Sirius huffed. “You’re not horrible.”

“I am.” That was the deal. He was the villain so Sirius could be the hero. He was the junkyard. Spare parts to be hosed off and trotted out when they needed him.

“Regulus, you’re nineteen.”

He frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everyone’s horrible at nineteen.”

“What if I’m…” He wracked his brain for something smart. It blew a raspberry at him and fucked off back to sleep. “…extra horrible?”

Sirius sighed, scratching lightly behind his ears. Regulus felt his eyelids droop against his will. “If you turn out to be extra horrible by—I don’t know, 21, we’ll talk.”

“What if they fucked us both up too bad?”

He winced—Sirius’ steady motions stuttered briefly. He hadn’t meant to let that one slither out from its careful cage. That was a thought for sleepless nights in a cold hotel bed and watching the sun rise in a strange city through dry, tired eyes. When his hands were blistered and bleeding, he’d wonder whether that Black blood could ever really be gone from him.

Sirius’ head was a gentle pressure on his own. “Then it’s us against the world, isn’t it?”

Gryffindor airport was quiet at 7 in the morning. Dumo stifled a yawn in the back of his hand as he passed the rolling suitcase to a boy that was far too awake for the early hour, in his opinion. Youths.

“You have everything?” Sirius checked. “You’ll be safe?”

“I’m literally fine.” Regulus arched a brow. “And less than four hours away, if you speed.”

“You’ll call when you land.”

“I’ll text.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “If you don’t, I’m filing a missing person report.”

Regulus turned to Remus. “Can you keep him on a leash? Or just sedate him?”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Remus laughed.

Sirius fixed them both with a weak scowl. “Will you just get on the plane?”

“I thought you wanted me to stay.”

“I want you—” Sirius took Regulus by the shoulders and turned him around with a firm grip. “—to have fun and live life and not die. The bar is on the ground. Do not dig under it.”

“Killjoy.”

“Pest.” Sirius kissed the top of his head. “Fly safe. Text.”

“Wait until I’m on the place before you start crying. I don’t want your gross emotions all over me.”

“Well, we can’t disturb your delicate sensibilities.”

“Sirius?”

“Reg.”

Regulus paused, laden with his duffel and rolling bag, and kicked the toe of Sirius’ sneaker lightly. “Love you.”

Sirius’ smile was close-lipped and small and brighter than the rising sun outside the massive bay windows. He kicked him back, even more gently. “Get on your plane.”

#sirius black #regulus black #pascal dumais #remus lupin #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #coops #hurt/ comfort #angst with a happy ending #black brothers #parentification #panic attack #sibling problems #therapy #look they're working on it okay

190 notes · View notes

achliegh · 4 years ago

Text

Je t'aime mon ange

Hello! So my good friend/wife @clearsuitcasecookienerd is feeling a little down. So, I thought I would write a little microfic about Dumo and Celeste being all cute.

TW/CW: FLUFF, really shitty fluff because I don’t know what I’m doing…

Characters belong to @lumosinlove as always!

Celeste looks up from the couch where she is flipping through the suggestions on her Netflix page, when a tall rugged man walks over and flops down on top of her. Smiling she runs her hands through his slightly grey hair as he squishes his arms under her back, rubbing his thumbs in circles soothingly.

She feels him leave light kisses on her collarbone as he turns his head to the side to look at the screen. Taking a deep breath he hums tiredly.

“Sleep, the kids are all asleep. Your job is over for the day.” She whispers to him as he gets heavier with sleep. Kissing the top of his head, she eventually lands on Fantasia and sets the volume down low. Grabbing the remote for the lights she dimms them as well. Letting her exhausted husband drift off to sleep on her.

“Je t'aime mon ange.” He whispers just a few moments before a small snore erupts from him. She laughs as quiet as she can, worried to wake him. Wrapping her arms around his head and burying her face in his hair she can’t help the absolute lovestruck smile that melts on to her face.

Loving him is the best thing to ever happen to her.

#celeste dumais #pascal dumais #sweater weather #lumosinlove

54 notes · View notes

lumosinlove · 2 years ago

Text

Day One:

On the first day of Winterfic, Hazel gave to you, the Lions decorating gingerbread houses!

***Very slight Vaincre spoilers—basically just that the Lions, in the month of Dec, are not having a very good season***

“Oh no.”

Remus looked over just in time to see Finn’s icing bag more or less explode over the table. He looked down at it, horrified, while Logan beside him threw his head back and laughed, leaning into his shoulder.

“Only you, Rouge.” Logan wrapped an arm around him, palm going up to stroke his hair back from his face lovingly. “Only you.”

Celeste laughed as she set yet another bowl of another type of candy on the table. “God bless plastic tablecloths.”

“Honey, you cut your hole way too big,” Leo laughed at Finn. “I told you to show me before—okay, here take mine and squeeze—no, that’s too hard. Oh my God, Harzy.”

“I don’t have control,” Finn was laughing hard through the words, leaning back against Logan. “I don’t know Knutty, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Logan was leaning with his elbows on the table now, face down into his forearms and shoulders shaking.

Half of the team was at the Dumais’ long dining room table, the rest on fold-outs around the edges. The tables themselves were covered—and Remus really did mean that—with bowls of candy, chocolates, frostings, anything one could think of. Logan’s dream feast, Finn had said when they’d all walked in, Celeste standing proudly beside her work. And lining the edges of them all were the forms of gingerbread houses, waiting to be decorated.

It was as rowdy as the locker room after a win, all of them sitting down like that. Sirius had stuck close to Remus’ side as they sat down beside Thomas and Noelle, who had flown in for the holidays. Logan and Finn had jostled each other as Leo pulled them into seats beside him. Finn was already making a mess of course, and Remus saw Leo edge his own neat work station subtly out of harm’s way. Logan hadn’t touched his gingerbread, too interested in eating the candy.

Remus let out a small sound when he felt his chair move beneath him, but it was only Sirius, who had reached down to scoot them close together.

“Hi,” Remus smiled.

Sirius looked soft and warm in a beanie that said Let It Snow and a long-sleeved henley, dark blue, the buttons open at the collar and revealing the chain of his necklace.

“Can we do one together?” Sirius asked. “I don’t trust myself not to be as bad as Harzy over there.”

“Oh, not so competitive now, huh?” Remus smiled. “That’s unlike you.”

“I don’t feel like being competitive, I feel like being close to you.”

That made Remus want to ditch the gingerbread all together. He tapped their foreheads together and nodded. “Okay, Gumdrop.”

Sirius made a face. “What?”

Remus laughed and reached into one of the many bowls on the table. He pressed the sugary dome to Sirius’ lips. “Gumdrop.”

“Gumdrop,” Sirius repeated, and let Remus place it in his mouth before chewing hesitantly. He swallowed and wrinkled his nose. “Non. Gumdrops are no, but you…” Sirius smiled and leaned in. Remus could taste the sugar on his tongue. “I prefer you.”

“Hm,” Remus kissed him again. “You can frost me later.”

“Wow, I am listening to true love,” Thomas said from his other side. “Just—just true fucking love.”

Sirius gave him a playful shove. “You’re supposed to be listening to your girlfriend.”

Noelle pointed her own frosting bag at Sirius from Thomas’ side. “Nothing I was saying could have compete with that.”

Remus laughed and threw a gumdrop at her.

It felt like the holidays now, even if they all only had a short time off. Even with the unseasonably warm weather. Sirius didn’t seem to mind, but for Remus it made the world feel off kilter. He wanted the snow, and the ice, and sweating in your hat while shoveling the front walk. But this. The smell of sugar, getting to be with his entire team, flying to see his family tomorrow morning, Reg coming, too. This was a good first step towards Christmas.

He watched Sirius with an amused expression, fumbling the icing bag in his large hands.

Remus picked up the scissors. “Need some help there?”

“Ouais.” Sirius laughed and leaned into him. He watched as Remus carefully made a small hole in the tip. “D’accord, what first? The top?”

“The roof?”

“Yeah, yeah, the roof. What I meant.”

“Can I make little tiles? And then we can put those little red guys on them.”

Sirius nodded. “Oh, the ones that look like goal lights?”

Remus let out a laugh. “You would say that. Here, let me—hey.”

He’d reached for where he thought the bowl of Red Hots were, only to find them tugged out of reach by a sheepish Finn.

“Hi,” Finn said.

Remus waved at his house, which looked like it had experienced an ice storm with the amount of frosting on its roof. “You’re not even using them yet.”

“But I’m eating them!” Finn said.

“Eat something else.”

“He could,” Leo held up a small red candy for Finn to take delicately from between his fingers. The gesture could have been a kiss, it was so sweetly done. “But he only likes the Red Hots.”

Finn took it, chewing and winking at Leo. “You’re red hot.”

Leo smiled before his eyes travelled past Finn to Logan. he let out a laugh, eyebrows going up. “Oh—oh my God, Lo.” He reached around Finn and pressed the back of his hand to one of Logan’s cheeks—which was bright pink. “You’re so flushed, you’ve had way too much candy already.”

“Mmm,” Logan only replied with a grin, then closed his eyes and dangled another sour rainbow strip into his mouth, tongue out until it had pooled there. He looked at Leo as he chewed. “You don’t like watching me eat candy, Leo?”

Leo, clearly fighting a smile—and sporting a deep flush of his own now—sent a pointed look at Adele and the other kids at the other end of the table, but they were too engrossed in their own gingerbread houses to notice.

“Well.” Leo took a breath.

“Come here.” Logan said, and when Leo looked suspicious, he laughed, picking up another rainbow sour-strip. “Allez, come here, Le.” He put one end of the strip between his teeth and held the other out to Leo. “Hmg, ‘ake ‘he eng.”

“That wasn’t French or English,” Finn said.

Leo rolled his eyes but leaned forward and took the other end from Logan’s fingers.

“Aw,” Finn said. “Wait, I like this.”

Logan didn’t pay him any mind, just began to pull his end of the candy in with his tongue and teeth, Leo doing the same, while Finn was left between them, eyes going back and forth between their faces. When their lips met, Finn noticed Remus’ look and flashed him a thumbs up and a wink. Logan smiled into their kiss and stayed close to Leo as they broke apart.

“I’ve had too much candy?”

Leo gave a half-hearted, fully-smitten shrug.

“Can you two do it again?” Finn asked. “Just for, like—science.”

Logan snorted, but he picked up a red hot and held it up at Finn. “Come and get it,” he said and put it between his teeth.

Remus laughed as he watched Finn smile, and he caught quite a bit of a glimpse of Finn’s tongue going into Logan’s mouth.

“Wow, Harzy,” Sirius called. “Interesting technique.”

“That’s my baby brother you’re kissing there, O’Hara.” Noelle pretended to wrinkle her nose. “Cool it, bro.”

“I cooled it for a long time, Noelle Tremblay.” Finn barely turned away from Logan as he said it, actually took Logan’s jaw between his fingers and angled him the way he wanted for another kiss. Logan looked like he was melting with being kissed stupid—or crashing from a sugar high. “I’m red hot now.”

Noelle smiled. “D’accord. Okay. Touché.”

Leo flicked the side of Finn’s head. “C’mere, watch me pipe. And keep that sugar pile of yours away from my masterpiece.”

“Are you talking about the house or Logan?” Finn asked.

Logan made a face and pushed him towards Leo. Finn wrapped an arm around Leo’s waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Show me, lover.” Finn watched his face with a smile. “Wait for it…there it is.”

Leo looked at him. “What?”

“You stick your tongue out when you concentrate. When you’re baking, stoping pucks, anything. It’s adorable.”

“Hm,” Sirius said from beside Remus, who was carefully making small looping tiles on the slants of their roof. “Do you think Leo’s gonna be better than us?”

Remus popped a red hot into his mouth. “I knew it. I knew there was no way you were going to be calm about this.”

Sirius just gave a shrug and picked up an icing spatula. “I’ll make a pond out front. For skating.”

Remus just went back to his work, smiling. “Okay, baby, whatever you want.”

They worked in silence for a moment, Sirius making a careful oval on the front cardboard of their house, Remus finishing one side of the roof and beginning the next. He glanced over at Thomas’ with a snort—he had just written GO LIONS on his roof and looked like he was trying to make their lion logo out of candy on the other side—pretty neatly, if Remus had to admit.

“Hey, no stealing my idea,” Thomas said, shouldering Remus protectively.

“I couldn’t if I tried, T.”

Down the table, it looked like Finn’s exploded icing—times ten. The Dumais kids, some of the Weasleys, plus James with Harry on his lap, were practically covered in frosting. Harry was as red-cheeked as Logan, beaming as his father made two little dinosaur marshmallows dance in front of him.

“I was thinking,” Sirius said suddenly from beside him.

About babies? Remus supplied silently. Sirius had been going over to the Dumais’ a lot, spending a lot of time with the kids. Maybe it was something he’d want one day, too.

“And before I say,” Sirius continued. “I love your family—”

“Our family,” Remus said.

Sirius smiled, grey eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that Remus was noticing just a little more lately. It made him unbearably handsome, and Remus wanted nothing more than to be there to watch him forever. His smiles. His large, capable hands. The way he grew his hair out to his shoulders and then cut it short again. His careful, attentive eyes when he was listening to a fast conversation in English.

Remus rubbed a quick palm over Sirius’ knee before going back to work. “What were you going to say?”

“I thought maybe next Christmas, we could go away. Just us.” Sirius drew a bowl of chocolate chips towards him, popped a few in his mouth, before beginning to place them at the places where Remus’ roof tiles met. He made a questioning sound, and Remus nodded. “We only get a few days, but—somewhere sunny. Private beach somewhere. Or even your lake cabin. Big fireplace, maybe skiing.”

Remus could only lean into him and smile. “That sounds nice, baby.”

“But I know you don’t get to see your parents a lot, and Jules, so—and I know Christmas is one of those times. So, don’t worry. We have the summers—and the All Stars break—they can all think again if they think I’m not done with All Star skills competitions, merde.”

“No, I like the idea of Christmas.” Remus watched the careful way Sirius was still placing the chocolate chips on their house. So small in his big hands. “Just us.”

Sirius smiled, sliding a few more chocolate chips into his mouth. “Forever.”

Remus knew his smile probably looked hopelessly smitten, but he couldn’t help it. “Yeah?”

Sirius didn’t even seem to realize, too intent on his decorating. He even picked up a few and replaced them more precisely on where the small frosting crescents overlapped before leaning back again. “Ouais. Okay, how does that look?”

“Yeah,” Remus said again, nonsensically, and leaned in for a kiss. “Hey, I love you.” He kissed him again, the corner of his mouth—the dimple right at the corner that had begun to never quite go away. “I love how you look when you’re focused. It’s one of my favorite things in the whole world.”

Sirius tapped their foreheads together. “Stop.”

“No.” Remus shook his head. “Never.”

Sirius held up a chocolate chip, and Remus let him place it between his lips, savoring the melting sugar on his tongue.

“I mean it.” Sirius took Remus’ hand and kissed over his knuckles. His eyes lingered on them, thumb bumping over them gently. “Forever.”

Remus nodded. It had been a hard month. His first December spent in the NHL. It wasn’t how any of them had dreamed it, probably. Remus ran his fingers through Sirius’ freshly cut hair, looking sweet with his beanie. Remus just wanted this tension out of his shoulders already and this, tonight…this had released some of it.

I want to be there for you, Sirius had said after that horrible, horrible game. That almost fight. I want to be with you. For my entire life. You know that, don’t you?

“Forever,” Remus agreed, and nodded across the table. “Now steal those rainbow things from Logan for me.”

#12 days of winterfic 2022 lumosinlove #wolfstar #coops #sweater weather lumosinlove #vaincre lumosinlove

236 notes · View notes

awanderingdeal · 3 years ago

Text

Summer camp AU - Chapter 5 - Remus

Finally an update to this! I found this chapter super hard to write for some reason. I hope you enjoy it!

CW: Food, implications of past toxic family relationships

Fic Rating: T

Please message me if you feel that any content warnings need to be added or the rating is not appropriate.

The characters in this fic belong to @lumosinlove and you should definitely go and check out her fics!

For previous and future chapters please see my masterlist

Remus moved tentatively as he climbed over Sirius, doing his best not to wake the other man. He wasn’t quite sure when Sirius had arrived, a vague memory of a muttered apology sometime during the early hours of morning surfacing, but he’d been asleep and barely registered it. He huffed a laugh at how Sirius had burrowed himself under the sheets, his inky black hair the only thing visible. The bed really wasn’t big enough for the two of them, and as much as Remus loved Sirius, his boyfriend leaked heat like a furnace. Still, soon the campers would be here and the two of them would have to set an example by not sneaking into one another’s accommodation so Remus savoured the company whilst he had it.

The air had already started to hold a damp heat when Remus stepped out, despite the amber hues of sunrise barely having lifted. A sweet breeze gave some welcome relief as he picked up a steady job, his muscles slowly waking to the chirping chorus of birds he couldn’t identify even with their daily meetings. Remus almost missed the flash of red hair hidden behind a tall pine tree, except for the hushed laugh that drags his attention away from a feisty squirrel he’d paused to watch. He rolls his eyes at the couple, an act he acknowledges is highly hypocritical considering the origins of his own relationship. The two kissed again, drawing the owner of the rough laughter into view and Remus startled. He peered closer, confirming his first observation - that was Kasey Winter, but the person he was with was most definitely not Natalie Darcy, Kasey’s girlfriend. Ordinarily, Remus would pretend he hadn’t witnessed anything, writing the situation off as none of his business, only both Kasey and Natalie were good friends of his. He pushed the dilemma to the back of his mind for now and pressed on with his run.

The work day had seemed unusually long, Remus learning the cruel lesson that even the most adored job became tiresome when you wanted to be somewhere else. Placing the final package of dressings in their drawer, Remus ticked the item off his checklist with a flourish. He looked around the nurses station, giving a satisfied nod and a self congratulatory smile; the place was really starting to come together. Now that he was finished for the day, Remus rolled his shoulders, letting himself relax.

Without the distraction of inventories and paperwork, Remus’ mind wandered to thoughts of Sirius. A phone call from a panicked parent needing reassurance the camp could, in fact, accommodate her child’s allergies had lasted long enough to result in him taking a late lunch, so Remus hadn't had a chance to talk to his boyfriend all day. He knew he could find Sirius in the drama studio, his phone having buzzed earlier with a message informing him of the fact Sirius would be there for the entire afternoon, only he didn’t want to alienate him from the other counsellors by spending all their time together. Traipsing back to the cabin to change out of his uniform, Remus shook off the doubt. There was a time for balance, but it wasn’t the day after your boyfriend reunited with their sibling after years apart.

Both Sirius and Heather jumped at Remus’s knock on the heavy wooden doorframe, the pair deep in conversation. “Oh, I believe that is my cue to leave,” Heather smiled, the expression settling something in Remus he hadn’t even realised needed settling.

“Thanks for all your help today, Heather.” Sirius accepted the broom she handed to him. “Both with this,” he continued, gesturing to the room around him, “and for the advice. You should consider a career as a therapist. Trust me, I should know.”

“Here I was antagonising over my future and Mr Sirius Black solved it in one afternoon,” Heather laughed, sticking her tongue out playfully. “It was no problem, way better than sorting out the games’ equipment shed, anyway. I can’t wait to see what your tiny theatre kids do in here.”

“They’re not tiny, they’re middle schoolers.”

“Exactly, middle schoolers. Tiny,” Remus agreed, stepping into the studio. It smelt of polish and other than a pile in the centre of the floor, any evidence of the years worth of dust that had been allowed to gather was gone.

“The key is not to let them know you think that,” Heather winked.

“This isn’t my first year, you know,” Sirius grumbled, his accent thickening the way it always did when he was even mildly inconvenienced, “Get out of here,” he shooed Heather off. “And talk to June! I definitely saw heart eyes this morning.”

“Well then, you need your eyes testing,” Heather retorted, leaving with a raised eyebrow and a peppy wave.

"Bonjour, mon loup,” Sirius sang, gathering Remus in his arms. At 5”11, Remus wasn’t even short, but Sirius could still easily prop his chin on the top of his head, albeit only briefly. A short breath of air left Sirius’ mouth, almost but not quite a laugh, and Remus found his chin being lifted for a kiss. "Come on, let's go and sit by the lake. I'll tell you everything."

Remus schooled his expression into the most innocent he could manage. "I was just going to ask how your day was."

"Sure." Sirius laughed properly now, the both of them stumbling slightly as he tried to nudge Remus' shoulder. "You're practically vibrating. Thought I was supposed to be the intense one?

“Sometimes it’s my turn,” Remus smirked, pointing out a large, flat rock in the distance that seemed like an ideal sitting place. Sirius nodded, letting Remus guide their slight change in trajectory to head towards it. “You know, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I will always be interested in your life, but if you want this to stay between you and Regulus then I completely understand.”

Sirius flicked his gaze over to Remus briefly, the smile soft on his face. It reminded Remus of when they had still been dancing around one another. Long evening walks where their hands would brush, just barely. Looking back, he didn’t know how they had lasted so long before that almost inevitable kiss. One thunderstorm and two leaking roofs, that was all it had taken in the end. “I know,” Sirius shrugged. Those were the last words he said until they reached the low slab, a once rugged thing that had been smoothed out by a lifetime of exposure. Remus thought there must be something poetic in it, but he was too tired to figure it out.

The quiet lasted long enough for Remus to figure Sirius had changed his mind, playing their hands together as they looked out onto the water.

“They live in California now, they’re here to teach archery and they are non - binary,” Sirius breathed out the sentence, the words blending together and his accent thick, but Remus was practised enough to decipher them.

“California? That’s a long way from Montreal -” Remus toyed with the sleeve of Sirius’ t-shirt. “ - How’d they end up there?”

Sirius' face crumpled a little, quickly gathering himself. “They were staying with a friend of our family’s there, Severus. He always seemed nice, nicer than the rest of their crowd anyway, but it turns out he’s no different to the rest of them. Regulus is trying to get out of there.” A sheepish smile spread over Sirius’ face. “I might have invited him to live with us. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I should have asked first. They were just so worried and -”

“Hey,” Remus squeezed Sirius's hand. “I’m not going to pretend that a consultation wouldn’t have been nice, but it’s your house -”

“It’s our house,” Sirius frowned.

"The house was bought with your money and I can completely understand and appreciate why you offer a roof over your sibling's head without question."

Sirius played with the necklace, a silver lion, hanging around his throat. Remus lifted his hand to touch its twin, draped around his own neck. "Just like that? Even though I've spent every mention of them detailing how much they had hurt me?"

Turning to face Sirius more surely, Remus gave a comforting smile. "Do you trust them?"

There was a brief pause, but the "yes" that followed was sure and confident.

"That's good enough for me," Remus said. "Shall we go and join everybody for dinner? There's apple pie tonight."

Dinner ended up being the usual ruckus that Remus had become re-accustomed to over the past few days. He loved the way the dining room thrummed with the same energy that radiated throughout meals with his own family. Thomas and James' dares grew more and more ridiculous until Sergei barked at them that he wouldn’t allow them any more BBQ if they did not calm down.

“ -Yeah, so ma Maman had to come and collect me. I think I lasted 5 hours,” Jackson finished his grandiose retelling of his first experience at camp.”

“Nado!” Evgeni set his glass down with a heavy thud. Remus had learned the tall Russian man had the gentlest of spirits, but grace was not an attribute he possessed in large amounts. “Why you go to horse camp if scared of horses?”

“I was 8,” Jackson argued. “I had never seen a horse in real life. It just looked fun.”

Once the rippling laughter dissipated, the conversation evolved into useful hints of tips from those of them that weren’t new on how to handle similar situations with their own campers.

“Hey, Katie,” Remus leaned over Sirius to address the youngest of the Dumais’. She had only arrived yesterday along with her siblings and Sergei’s wife and children, but she’d made herself right at home, squeezing herself between Sirius and Logan, who she had declared her favourite, instead of joining the rest of her family at their table. “Can I steal Sirius please? I need to show him something.”

“It’s time for Katie to go with Anya back to our cabins,” Celeste interrupted. “Viens, ma chérie. Tu peux revenir demain matin.” Katie left with a pout to a round of goodbyes.

“What did you want to show me, mon loup?” Sirius cocked his head curiously.

“Nothing,” Remus admitted sheepishly. “I just wanted to get a good spot under the pavilion before everybody else finishes and comes outside.” Sirius rolled his eyes, letting Remus tug him into a standing position. During camp, the small structure would serve as a meeting point and could fit a dozen or so people in when they were standing, but it was pretty full with Sirius’ 6 foot 3 form sprawled across it, there wasn’t much space for anybody else, and this was Remus’ favourite spot. He could lie under the shelter, a little less exposed to the biting insects that seemed to love him so much and still see everybody on the green around them.

Soon, the space would be filled with eager children, and Remus would be constantly poised to treat the next ailment, but at the moment, he was content to watch this year's counsellors get to know one another better. He was an old hand at this now, however, he could remember the bristling excitement as his first training week had drawn to a close, the knowledge that he was soon to be responsible for people who didn't seem all that much younger than he was, both terrifying and exhilarating.

The sky had been threatening rain for hours now, and it finally fulfilled its promise.

“My hair!” Finn’s screech broke through the chorus of rain. The blonde boy, something in the back of Remus’ brain supplied him with the name Leo, immediately tucked Finn against his side, throwing his jacket over his head. Remus wasn’t sure whether their shaking was as a result of the damp seeping through their clothes or the pair’s laughter.

Remus had always enjoyed people watching, noticing the subtle intricacies of human behaviour when they didn’t realise you were looking, so he caught Leo’s small glance up at Logan just before he put some space between himself and Finn.

Finn wasn’t having any of it though, dragging Leo back to him, attempting to get the small jacket over the top of the both of them.

"Do you see that?" Remus lifted his shoulder, jostling Sirius slightly.

Sirius grunted, the annoying chime of the game he was playing sounding loudly as he progressed to another level. Remus had given up on complaining, and the repetitive nature of swiping candies across the screen seemed to relax Sirius more than it bothered Remus. "See what?"

Leo was standing now, his t-shirt soaked through and his hair plastered against his face in damp strands. Remus couldn't quite work out what he spluttered before walking off with long, quick strides, one last quick look at Logan as he went.

"There's something going on there,' Remus hummed.

"Stop meddling," Sirius laughed.

"I'm not meddling!"

Sirius turned a raised eyebrow on Remus and tucked his phone into the pocket of his jacket before pulling them both down so they lay on their backs. "Listen. I love the sound of the rain."

Remus knew he was being distracted, but the thudding rhythm of heavy droplets against the wooden slats of the rood was incredibly relaxing. Or at least it was until the sheeting downpour didn't stop and they had to dart through it, laughter heaving in their chests to meet the others in the large hall. Celeste sighed, bundling towels into their hands to dry off.

"Nice of you to join us, gentlemen," Dumo said, a guitar propped in his lap. "Take a seat. We were just about to teach our newcomers a few campfire songs. Sans the fire, of course. As two of our most experienced, maybe you could lead?”

“Je te hais,” Sirius grumbled.

Dumo ignored the declaration, and once they were seated he smiled. “Perhaps we will start with Everywhere we go?”

Despite an early reluctance from Sirius the sounds of the song were soon echoing off the walls, the group of counsellors enthusiastically answering Sirius’ calls.

Everywhere we go

People always ask us

Who we are

And where we come from

So we tell them

We’re the Lions

The mighty mighty Lions

And if they can’t hear us

We shout a little louder

We shout a little louder!

Dumo was lenient, taking over leading them through a few more songs himself until he faked a large yawn. “Well, it’s bed time for me. I’ll leave the guitar for anybody who wants to play. And remember, no matter how much we try to teach our campers such fun songs, they’d rather learn whatever routine is popular on Tip Top or whatever that thing is called, so be prepared!”

Logan commandeered the guitar quickly, holding it strong against his thigh and strumming it with a relaxed ease Remus wasn't sure he'd seen in the man before. He played through a few songs, others slowly filtering out as time went by until only a handful of people remained.

“Do my song, please?” Finn asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Logan shook his head, “Not here.”

Finn’s lower lip dropped into a pout and Remus saw the exact moment Logan succumbed to the expression. Remus didn’t blame him at all, Finn’s face bore an eerie resemblance to Bambi and only a monster could deny it.

“Fine.”

The slow chords started and the room quieted as Logan began to sing. It was more romantic than Remus had expected from the younger man.

And you can tell everybody

This is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it's done

I hope you don't mind

That I put down in the words

How wonderful life is while you're in the world.

Logan and Finn were so invested in one another that Remus wasn’t sure they noticed Leo slipping quietly from the room.

16 notes · View notes

the-most-slytherin-hufflepuff · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 7

It has been scientifically proven by no one that writer’s block sucks. I hate it, but i managed to finish this chapter so I guess it’s ok. Credit for the characters goes to @lumosinlove. The idea came from @heyitssmiller and her anons. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Masterlist the flower that literally no one asked for

Finn smiled fondly when they saw Leo hiding behind one of the trees. Katie came running up to them and tapped their leg to get Finn’s attention. “Have you seen Leo?”

They pretended to think about it. Katie had been trying to find Leo for at least ten minutes, but every time she came close to finding him he sneaked away.

“Sorry sweetheart, I haven’t”. Her face fell slightly, “maybe Lo has seen him.” Katie smiled up at them before running to where Logan was talking with June and Adele.

Finn walked to where they had seen Leo hiding. They were looking at Katie to make sure she wouldn’t accidentally see them. “Nice hiding spot.”

Leo jumped a little, a small noise of surprise leaving his lips. He turned around and glared at Finn, hitting them on the shoulder lightly. “Don’t scare me like that.” Finn laughed at Leo’s glare.

Leo shushed them harshly, he looked back to make sure Katie was still looking for him. Finn lifted their hands in mock surrender and backed away slowly. “Sorry”, they whispered.

They could hear Katie’s giggles as she ran to where Leo was hiding, but he and Finn weren’t paying attention to her anymore. Leo felt her hug his leg from the side, “I found you!”

“Damn”, he whispered. “How did you find me?” He said loud enough for her to hear him.

“Logan told me where you were.”

Leo saw Logan wave at him with an innocent smile on his face. Leo sent him a mock glare that made Logan laugh.

“Did he now?” Katie nodded in response before turning around and running inside the house.

He started walking towards Logan, Finn following behind him. Leo sat down besides June, crossing his arms and pouting at Logan. “Why did you tell her where I was?”

Logan shrugged before answering. “You try saying no to that kid. It’s impossible.” Both June and Finn nodded in agreement while Adele just rolled her eyes. “No it’s not Logan”, she began, “you are just weak.”

Logan made a sound of indignation. “Have you ever told her no?” he challenged.

“Yes Logan.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing ever. “It’s really not that hard. Mom does it all the time.”

Logan sighed in defeat. “Yeah, you’re right.” He hung his head in shame. “I’m weak.”

Logan lifted his head up when he heard Celeste calling them inside for lunch. Leo really liked Celeste, she was kind and gentle with him. He had been nervous to meet her, even though deep down he knew she wouldn’t be like Walburga his brain still found a million and one reasons to worry.

They got up and went inside. June sat between Adele and Katie who was sat besides Marc while Leo, Finn, and Logan sat opposite to them with Pascal and Celeste sat at either ends of the table.

“What are you three doing today?” Celeste had taken to asking about all three of them instead of just Finn and Logan. The two had rarely left Leo’s side since they had arrived anyway.

“We were planning on taking Leo to see the town.”

Leo turned away from his conversation with June when he heard Logan mention his name. “Wait”, he looked between Finn and Logan, “really?”

Finn smiled softly at his childlike enthusiasm. “Yeah, I mean only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to”, he was practically bouncing out of his seat from excitement.

“Can we braid your hair again?” Katie asked Leo with a pleading look in her eyes. Logan was right, Leo thought, saying no to her was hard. “Sure thing Katie”

After lunch Katie, Adele, and Marc took Leo away to Logan’s and Finn’s room. The girls sat him down on the bed he had been sleeping on the past few days while Marc went to get some flowers to decorate the braid. Leo picked up a book to read while the girls worked, the three of them settling into a comfortable silence.

Adele parted his hair in the middle, handing half of it to Katie so that she could begin her braid. When Marc got back he dumped a bunch of multicolored flowers at the foot of the bed and began carefully putting them into the braids that Katie and Adele had made. He placed the flowers where the braids were separate, stopping where the two braids turned into a single one, making it look like Leo was wearing a yellow and blue halo.

Leo looked up from his book when he heard knocking. “Who is it?” Katie yelled from behind him.

“It's Logan.” His reply was muffled by the door. “Can I come in?”

“No”, answered Adele.

“Why not?”, this time it was Finn’s voice that came through.

“Because”, Katie said in a condescending tone, “you’re gonna ruin the surprise.”

Leo heard who he suspected to be Logan groan, a small thud followed by the sound of someone sliding down the door making him chuckle. He felt Katie smothering her giggles on the back of his shirt. He was beginning to think she just liked to annoy Logan like any good sister should.

Adele gasped dramatically. “Something's missing.” Leo stared at her dumbly.

“What?” He asked.

“I got it!” Leo did not like the mischievous glint in her eyes. She got off of the bed and walked toward Logan’s wardrobe, Leo’s eyes went wide when he realized what she was doing.

“No.” He said bluntly.

She ignored him, taking one of Logan’s worn long sleeved jackets. “Adele”, she looked at him, “I can’t wear Logan’s clothes”.

“Why not?”

“Because they won’t fit”. That wasn’t the real reason, but it was as good of an excuse as any he could’ve come up with right then and there.

“Oh don’t worry about that, this one is actually a jacket he stole from Finn”, she gave him a smile, “it should fit just fine.” She tried to make herself sound innocent, Leo didn’t know what she was trying to do, he didn’t want to know either. He just knew she didn’t look, nor did she sound, the least bit innocent.

Leo sighed, he wasn’t getting out of this one. Either he admitted to the feelings he knew he shouldn’t be feeling right now or he agreed to her making him wear the jacket. “Fine”, he said, “I’ll wear it. But if Logan gets mad at me for putting it on I’m blaming you.”

“And I’ll throw the blame on Katie, he won’t say anything to her.” Leo saw Katie nod, a feeling of dread building in his stomach. “The two of you are a menace.” He saw Adele smirk and Katie looking proud of herself.

“Can we show Finn and Logan now?” Katie nodded at Marc’s question, getting off the bed and walking towards the door. Leo, Adele, and Marc following after her. Leo put a hand on her shoulder, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips. She moved out of the way so that Leo could open the door.

Leo opened the door abruptly. Logan fell through, the wood no longer supporting him. He looked up at Leo and froze, if he hadn’t already decided that Leo was the most gorgeous man he had ever seen this definitely confirmed it for him. “Hey”, he tried to make it sound like a complaint, he failed.

Finn’s hands were covering their face as they tried to stop their laughter. When they managed to get it under control they offered a hand to Logan so he could sit up. He took it, grateful to have something to look at that wasn’t Leo.

Leo with flowers in his hair. Leo who was wearing his jacket that was actually Finn’s jacket. Leo with his pink cheeks and dimples and eyes shining with mirth.

Logan looked at Finn for a moment. He noticed the moment they looked at Leo, he wouldn’t have caught it if he wasn’t sitting so close to them. He saw Finn swallow, heard their breath hitch, Finn’s fingers tightening around his hand. Finn’s eyes met his for a moment, and Logan knew they were thinking the same thing he had.

“Is that my jacket”, was the first thing Finn said.

Logan saw Leo blush, he didn’t think Leo could get any prettier. “Y-Yes”. Leo’s nervousness made Logan melt a little. He thought maybe he shouldn’t be so in love with someone he had known for such a short time, but who was going to stop him anyway.

“It looks good on you”, Finn said. “It actually, you know, fits”. They gave Logan a pointed look. To anyone else it would seem like they were making fun of how big the jacket was on Logan, but he knew better. Leo wearing the jacket that belonged to Finn, but Logan usually wore, made sense. The same way their love for him and each other made sense to Logan and Finn.

“Thanks”. Leo fidgeted with the sleeves. “It was Adele’s idea.”

Of course it had been her idea. She gave Logan a knowing look. Adele always knew them too well. She was the one that helped Logan realize his feelings for Finn. She was the one that Finn first told about how they weren’t really a boy, but they weren’t a girl either. She had been the one that helped Finn feel comfortable enough to tell everyone. It was always Adele, and now Katie, if the smug look she was giving them was any indication.

“Can we take Leo to town now or do you plan to kidnap him again”. Finn looked at Katie for an answer. She pretended to think about it before answering, “you can have him, but I’m gonna need him back tomorrow.”

“Why?” Logan asked.

“Because he promised to teach me how to paint the sky. June is better at faces than landscapes.”

Logan nodded. He and Finn stood up from the ground and looked at Leo, he still had a small blush on his face.

“Come on”, Logan said softly, “if we leave now we can be back just in time for Celeste to not kill us from being late to dinner.”

Leo laughed lightly. People might think it was Pascal they should be worried about, but after meeting both of them he realized Pascal spoiled every single one of his kids. Celeste did too, but she also preferred to know where all her kids were at all times and her worry for them was usually masked under a mix of mock anger and amusement.

When they reached the living room they saw June talking with Celeste and Pascal. Katie ran up to him and tugged at his sleeve. He picked her up and looked at the others. “Heading out I suppose.”

Celeste turned away from her conversation to look at them. “Don’t disappear for three days again.”

After reassuring Celeste that they wouldn’t disappear again and picking up the bag with the stolen crown they headed out. Leo had almost forgotten about it, the crown had always been there but the three of them barely talked about it. Celeste and Pascal had been both angry and proud when Logan told them why they had it. It hadn’t come up since, and Leo had been too distracted to actually care.

“Do you want to return it before or after exploring the town?” Finn asked.

Logan was the one to answer. “Before. Let’s get it over with, I’m kind of getting tired of carrying the bag around.” Leo nodded in agreement. Logan looked about ready to throw the bag over the castle wall and let them deal with it.

They reached the castle gates sooner than Leo had expected. He was glad, they could finally let go of the crown and walk around.

Logan walked up to one of the guards at the castle gates. He had a scar going down his face over one of his icy blue eyes. The guard looked at Logan suspiciously.

“Hello”. Logan sounded nervous. He took the bag that was slung across his back and handed it to the guard. “The stolen crown is in there.”

The guard raised an eyebrow at Logan before opening the bag, his eyes going wide at the golden circlet. “Where did you find this”

“My friend and I, we actually stumbled upon the Carrow twins in the forest, and my friend is an idiot with a hero complex. He decided that we had to do something about it.” Logan sighed, the memory of Finn’s stupid decision almost bringing a smile to his face. Almost.

“So you guys just”, the guard paused, tone disbelieving, “you just took it and ran?”

“Pretty much. We almost lost our heads but it was worth it.”

“You must want some form of compensation for this? So, what's it gonna be?”

“Oh, no. It’s fine really, we don't want anything, just give that back to whoever it belongs to, I guess”. Logan said, scratching the back of his neck.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t even know what we would ask for”.

Logan turned when he heard his name being called. He saw Leo beckoning him over, the viola flowers in his hair making him look almost ethereal.

”That would be my cue to leave”, Logan turned back to the guard before continuing, “have a nice day sir”.

“It’s Jackson, and thank you for returning this”, he said as he lifted the crown up, the metal reflecting the midday sun.

“It was no problem, really”.

Logan walked up to Finn and Leo with a smile on his face. “Where to first?” he asked. He saw Leo’s face brighten up in excitement, “I don’t know. We didn’t really plan this out.”

“We should go to the market, see what we find there.” Finn put their arm around Logan’s shoulders and began walking. “Calling you my friend was the weirdest thing ever.” Logan thought about it for a moment before speaking again, “scratch that, calling you he was the definitely weirder.”

Finn had to laugh at that. Being called he didn’t really sound all that weird, it didn’t feel right but they didn’t really tell anyone they didn’t trust to use their proper pronouns, they were used to being addressed as he. But being called Logan’s friend was definitely laughable. The two of them had never been just friends.

They looked over at Leo. He was looking around at everything, his eyes shining in amazement. The town’s market was filled with people, there was a group playing music and children running around.

Leo turned to look at Logan and Finn with a smile on his face, “This place is amazing.”

They spent the entire afternoon going through all the shops in the market. At one point Leo had started dancing to the music that was being played, everyone had joined him. Seeing Leo being so happy and carefree made Logan smile. It was hard to believe this was the same man that they had met in that tower. By the time the sun had started to set the three of them were headed back home. Leo didn’t know when he had started considering the house home.

He was walking a few steps behind Finn and Logan. The two were talking in low voices about something. Leo wasn’t paying them much attention, he was more interested in the few stars he could see now that the sunlight was dimming.

“Leo.” He heard Finn say his name. He managed to stop himself before crashing into Logan. He hadn’t noticed when they stopped walking.

“Yes?”

“Can we talk to you for a moment?” Logan asked. He kept his tone even but he still noticed Leo tense slightly.

“About what?” Finn didn’t like that Leo sounded scared.

Logan cursed under his breath, “we didn’t really think this one through did we?” He sighed. “We kinda need to talk to you about something important.” He sounded nervous, it put Leo on edge.

“Ok”, Leo’s voice was shaky.

They got closer to Leo. Logan wanted to take his hand, he didn’t. Instead he grabbed Finn’s, they both needed someone to hold onto right now.

“Umm, I don’t really know where to start.” Logan said, his cheeks turning pink.

Finn sighed, there was no easy way of doing this and they had already put Leo on edge. If they kept stalling things would start going wrong.

They took a moment to think about what they were going to say. “We are both kind of maybe falling in love”, they took a deep breath before finishing their sentence, “with you.”

“What?” Leo choked out.

“We both like you”. That was an understatement, Logan thought. “A lot.”

Leo didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think he trusted himself enough to speak anyway.

“Please say something”. If Leo didn’t say something soon Logan was sure he would go crazy.

“You both like me?”

“Yes.” Logan tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

“Why?” Leo couldn’t help when his voice broke.

Finn placed their hand on Leo’s cheek gently, they didn’t miss the tears that were gathering in Leo’s eyes. They looked at Leo. Really looked at him for the first time since they had started the conversation. He looked tense, Finn hated it. So they did the only thing they had been thinking of doing every time they looked at Leo.

Leo’s eyes fluttered shut when Finn kissed him a small noise of surprise leaving him. He heard Logan’s breath hitch. He thought maybe he should care more about the fact that he was being kissed by someone who already had a boyfriend, but he didn’t.

Because it felt right. Because he couldn’t imagine being kissed by anyone else and it feeling the same. Because even though Finn already had Logan and Logan had Finn he wanted to have them both. And maybe they both wanted him and maybe that was ok.

When Finn broke the kiss they looked at Leo. His eyes were still closed, but he didn’t look as tense anymore. His eyes opened slowly, almost like he didn’t want them to.

“Is this real?” Leo’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Very real.” Logan didn’t sound mad. He got closer to Leo.

“You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be angry at you Leo?” Logan got even closer to Leo until their faces were inches apart.

“Because your partner just kissed me and I thought maybe-”

Whatever Leo was going to say was interrupted when Logan kissed him. It was different than Finn. They both kissed differently. Leo liked both, he didn’t know how he could like them both the same for such different reasons but he did.

When they broke the kiss Leo let his head fall to Logan’s shoulder. “You both like me.” It wasn’t really a question, but Logan nodded regardless, arms wrapping around Leo.

“You kissed me.” Again Logan nodded. He didn’t really know what else to do.

Leo felt another pair of arms wrap around him tightly. He felt himself relax, leaning into both of them. He was surprised by how right it felt.

“What now?”

“Will you be our boyfriend?” It was Finn who asked.

“Is that even allowed? Can we love more than one person at once?” Logan didn’t like how small Leo sounded.

“I don’t think love has rules, sweetheart.” Leo smiled at the word. “But even if it did, we clearly don’t care for them.”

“Alright”, Leo said softly, “I’ll be your boyfriend. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Finn kissed Leo’s hair softly because they could now. “Nothing is taking you away from us baby.”

“You promise?” Leo still sounded unbearably small.

“I promise.”

#o'knutzy tangled au #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #lumosinlove #o'knutzy #celeste dumais #pascal dumais

36 notes · View notes